#i realized that the image was really blurry for some reason and replaced it with a higher quality version

[theepisceswriter]

JJK men based off songs in my sex playlist (Nanami, Gojo, Toji, Ijichi)

A/N: my poundtown post just hit 1K today, so I had to come through and deliver my JJK besties with some new content since I haven’t posted anything for them in a while. I hope you guys enjoy ! 💜

Synopsis: Sex songs I think go with the men of JJK + specific lyrics + a small Drabble based off of those lyrics, not using the lyrics as words, but scenarios kinda

TW: mature things obviously, long post bc each Drabble is 300 words+, roughness and degrading & public sex for Toji, mommy kink and teasing for Ijichi, 18+, MINORS DNI!

NANAMI: Dance For You by Beyoncé

Loving you is really all that's on my mind

And I can't help but to think about it day and night

I wanna make that body rock

Sit back and watch

Tonight I'm gonna dance for you

“Think of our bedroom as a strip club tonight.” Your hands traveled up the length of Nanami’s arms until you got up to his collar bones, using the elevated height the heels gave you to your advantage as you pushed him back into the clothed chair you had stolen from the living room, having thought this whole night out in advance to make sure Nanami left the bedroom the next morning for work beyond satisfied and rushing back home to you for round two. It’s what the man deserved after working as hard as he did all the time; a little stress reliever to make him forget about paperwork and the confinements of a work desk for once. 

“No touching. I can touch you, but you can’t touch me.” You ordered, earning no sign of protest from the blonde, as you made your way over to the speaker where the soft sensual melodies were ready to go and infiltrating the room as soon as you pressed play. With your face turned to the wall, you could only wish to see his initial reaction when you dropped your robe to reveal your lingerie clad body, the red of the lacy garments and matching garter complimenting your skin beautifully which was only accentuated by the dim lighting of the candles you had placed around the room.

You turned around just in time for you to catch Nanami shifting in the confines of the chair so he could manspread his legs out and it didn’t take long for your eyes to find out that the erection pressing against his work slacks was the reason why. Getting down on your knees, you crawled over to where he was situated in slow movements mimicking that of a lion or panther with your back arched as far as it could to give him a nice view of your ass. A thousand blinding suns couldn’t take his attention away from you. His glaring gaze you could feel on you despite his signature glasses covering his pupils. 

Your hands slid from his ankles up to his thighs, teasingly grazing at his erection with your breast making a small grunt fall from his lips, up until they were at his shoulders. Which you then used to prop yourself up on his lap with, testing the sorcerer's patience with each languid movement of your hips against his laps. It was barely a swirl and more of a ghosting feeling than an actual one, but my god was it still driving him crazy. And as if that wasn’t enough, your hands moved behind your back to unclip the decorative bra you had on and allow it to fall down your chest until your hardened nipples were exposed to his gazing eyes, discarding of it somewhere in the room as you threw it over his head.

“Come here.” He finally spoke up, broad hands grabbing ahold of your waist and moving you so your crotch was directly over his. He had enough of the teasing and dancing, he needed you right here right now. His hands roamed all over your body, even pausing at the meat of your ass to grope it momentarily, before his hands were trailing up your chest and stopping right at the hilt of your breast. Taking each of them into his large hands as he leaned forward in one swift movement to take one of your hard nubs into his mouth, gently biting down on it before soothing the burning sensation with his warm tongue. 

“Daddy hasn’t been taking care of you like he should of been lately, hm? I’m going to make up for the whole week tonight, babygirl. Fuck you soo good until you’re begging me to stop.”

GOJO: On the Way by Jhene Aiko

Got me squirtin', take off the sheets

I want you to see it

You're what this pussy needed

“Come on, I know that pretty pussy of yours has more to give to me.”

You could hear the teasing smirk in Gojo’s mocking words from above and if the tears pooling in your eyes with each painful overstimulating thrust of his fingers into your sore pussy mixed with the override of your senses from nearing your 3rd, possibly 4th, back to back orgasm, didn’t have your eyes so blurry then you would’ve looked up and saw the exact same image of the blue-eyed man you were envisioning. 

“I-I can’t Gojo, it’s too much,” But despite the whimpering and protests that left your lips the fast fucking of his slender fingers in your cunt don’t stop at all. At least not like you had hoped, the white haired individual pausing only to discharge a wad of spit on your clit to massage in with his rough thumb. Your poor pussy is too weak at this point to even clench at his fingers, but the picking up of your breathing and flushing of your cheeks is enough for him to know that you’re nearing the edge. 

His fingers covered and slippery with your slick curve up inside of you warranting a sob to rip from your lips. His three fingers that work the inside of you as good as his cock mixed with the gentle massaging of your clit is all too good to the point where it's mind-numbingly good. You don’t even have time to warn him of the warm feeling in the pits of your uterus getting really to flood out before your eyes are rolling to the back of your head and you’re choking on any words that are trying to escape your lips. 

You can feel the warm clear liquid gushing out of you, the insides of your thighs soaking wet with the substance and the spongy noises that infiltrate your ears as Gojo works you down from your high and milk you of every last drop of your squirt. 

“Good fucking girl,” He praises you with a low growl, fingers finally slipping out of you for the first time in the last 30 minutes. “Are you finally ready for my cock now?”

IJICHI: Yeah, I Said It by Rihanna

Yeah, I said it, 

I want you to fuck me tied up 

The trace of your taste on the panties you had stuffed into Ijichi’s mouth has him salivating until it’s dripping down the sides of his mouth, wanting and eager to taste you and hoping that you’ll take some mercy on him and finally give in to what he wanted. His cock is red and sore from the cockring you placed around his balls, making sure he wouldn’t get any release even if you were generous enough to gift him with the warmth of your folds, but most importantly it was standing straight up at your attention; aching and waiting to see what your next move would be. It’s not like he had even an inch of dominance in his body to grab you and just take you, but even if he did he wouldn’t be able to because of the restraints you had placed around his wrists and ankles to tie him to the bed. The flesh around them red and sore from trying to do their best to wiggle out of their grip. 

He wanted you so bad to the point where it hurt him, but he also wanted to stay tied up waiting until you were ready to use him.

A quiet gasp tore itself from his lips when he felt the ghosting fingers of your soft fingertips dance upwards on his thighs and gently rub up against the ache that was his erection, allowing it to jerk in your direction as a reflex.

“My poor baby.” You finally spoke up with a hint of remorse, your words cooing softly. 

The dewy flushness of his cheeks from crying finally getting to you. Not to mention that you had finally reached your wits end and wanted him just as bad as he wanted you in this moment. Removing the underwear from his mouth you replaced them with your tongue and lips only for a couple of seconds before you were pulling away to say, “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” Your lips trailed from the side of his mouth down to his chest until you were at his nipples, toying with the sensitive flesh with your tongue to fluster him even more.

“I need your pussy.” His voice is hoarse and choked up from finally being allowed to speak after so long. Words that he would usually find dirty and too embarrassing to speak out loud flying out of his lips like its nothing, cheeks flushed with pink after the realization. “I need you, mommy. I need you so bad.”

“Good boy.” You praise him as you take your straddling position on his lap. The simple task of you taking his cock in his hand to remove the cockring already having him ready to cum. Rubbing his red swollen tip along your folds to collect some of your wetness until you’re satisfied with the pleading whines that leave his lips and sink down on him until you’re at his hilt. 

“Mommy is going to give you exactly what you want like promised.”

TOJI: Anytime, Any Place by Janet Jackson

I don't wanna stop just because

People walking by are watching us

I don't give a damn what they think

I want you now

“Turn around.” Toji’s words were practically growled out at you as he grabbed ahold of your wrists and turned you around on his own accord against the grimy cold brick wall of the alley before you could even comply with his words. Too wanting and needing for the warm hug of your walls around his cock to wait for you on his own accord. It wasn’t his fault he was feening for you so badly to the point where he pulled you out of the hole in the wall club and had you pressed up against the rough brick wall adorning an alley that led to it. If it wasn’t for that tight skirt you knew he liked, the one that adorned your curves beautifully and showed off enough thigh that had his cock painfully hard the moment he saw you, then maybe the two of you could’ve had a normal night out as a couple, but alas you weren’t.

You could hear the rustling of the fabric holding Toji’s pants up come undone from behind you, the sound only making your thighs press together from excitement having been conditioned by that sound to know exactly what was coming next. His thick erection was pressing against the backside of your skirt in an instant, his warm breath fanning over your neck as he positioned himself directly behind you as close as close would let him. You teasingly wiggled your ass up against his throbbing cock which only egged him on more, the girth of his length slipping inside of you with ese before he could even fully crinkle your skirt up around your waist. The sudden intrusion had you biting your lip to hold back your moans, but that only warranted Toji to wedge his fingers between your jaws to force your mouth to stay open.

“I want them to hear every single moan and whine that comes from between those pretty lips of yours. Let them know that you’re getting fucked out in the public like the slut you are.” One hand came to your waist to press you back against him and give you no choice but to take every inch of his cock as he pounded into you ruthlessly like the two of you were in the confinement of your bedroom and not indeed in some random alley that anyone could come into any minute like the two of you had done. 

With his other free hand he grabbed at a large chunk of your hair and forcefully tugged your hair back until your eyes were met with his feral ones, tears brimming in your eyes from a mixture of pain and pleasure that always came with his actions and soon saliva began to drip down your chin from the way he was forcefully holding it open. You couldn’t talk and warn him of the two strangers looking at you two from further down in the alley even if you wanted too, but your eyes moving to their direction instead of him gave him a big enough hint.

“Let them stare,” He growled as the force of his thrusts made your hips hit against the wall, sure to leave a bruise, “Let them see how you let me fuck the shit out of you until you’re a blabbering fucking mess.”

[spikesbimbo]

Silver spoon

Pairing: ukai Ikkei x f!reader

Tags: made this a Mafia au just so he would have a reason to have a gun, nurse!reader, actual age agp, gilf, gun play, gun fucking (?), idk giving his gun sum sloppy toppy, oral sex, creampie

Summary: how to be a beneficiary 

wc: 3.5k

@keishinslove , come get ur mans, ; ), @fawn-daydreams thanks so much for the pic! @dreamsandabyss

18 + Minors dni

“Look, someone has to have it...” he spoke into the phone, leaning back as you did with him. The feeling of his warm body against yours putting you to sleep, resting your head on his chest as you curled up into him. 

His smirk widened as he ran his hand down your sides, enjoying your company as you grew more comfortable in his lap, the feeling of cold hard metal touching your skin as you adjusted yourself on his legs, seeing it peek from below his waistband, handle hanging out of his belt reminded you of what he was, breaking you out of your daydream.

Looking up at him as your hands rested on his chest and neck, pulling away from his stroking his scuff and fingers untangling themselves from his golden chain. Getting off his thighs seeing as this call was going to last long, legs growing numb, jestering with your hands that you were going to the kitchen, responding with a subtle nod as he watched you leave.

Hearing his voice get sterner, sending chills down your spine as his tone changed completely. “Send guards up there to get him…. and hold him until they arrive.” Seeing that he got confirmation, as his head tilted back, a sigh escaping lips as he rubbed his eyes. Eyebrows furrowing, not knowing if you should have left him there alone, just putting it in the back of your head that you left some time for him to cool down.

Walking down the staircase headed towards the kitchen, almost still getting lost in this villa as you remember him telling the first time you came here ‘it was down the staircase and to the left’. Stopping to look at the big picture of him hung up on the wall followed by many others, looking like a victorian portrait encased in the glass frames made you realize how big of a name they really were, generations following you down the hall as you continued moving down the steps.

Finally seeing the walls of windows and the bar you felt relieved, walking up to the fridge and opening it, seeing every drink but water. Grabbing some type of lemonade as you leaned against the marble counter while you took a sip, tasting the unknown alcohol in it as it hit the back of your throat, quickly coughing while smacking your chest a few times to calm it down. Tears filling your eyes as you shakily set the glass down.

“Sorry about that. Should've probably just drank it all yesterday.” 

You turned your blurry eyes to see his grandson, an almost spitting image of him when he was younger, noticing him handing you some water that you wanted in the first place.

“What a surprise...” you choked out, lifting the bottle to your mouth, throat finally feeling some ease.

The two of you had an almost sibling-like relationship, starting from the moment he met you after you patched his friend up in an alleyway, not even questing or caring why, moving on with your day like nothing happened.

Guessing you were on your way home from work, seeing you in scrubs, and after running into you again he swore it was fate. Persuading you to join them as you easily said yes, knowing you wouldn't say no the salary and the ‘benefits’ that came along with it, just wanting to finally relax with your student loans paid off.

But the last thing he would've expected after all of this, was you, with his grandad. Essentially getting yourself stuck in this kind of life, knowing that you'd never be able to leave as soon as they found out you were 'with’ him. But you obviously had a smart head on you, letting you do whatever your heart wanted as he supported you. Grabbing another drink from the bar, this time knowing it was alcohol as you two joked around for a minute.

A smile appearing on your face when you heard steps walking towards you, seeing ikkei appear from the corner of the hallway as keishin turned his head and guessed right, looking at you already skip over to him like a puppy following its owner.

Greeting you while he let you cling onto him, arms wrapped around his as he lifted his hand saying hello to his grandson. All his attention on your pretty little smile as his thumb traced your cheek, bringing up your hand to his lips, placing his lips on it gently as you were acting like you've never been touched before, giggling shyly into his arm as he chuckled out.

Keishin gagging at the sight before him, “Why don't you just retire already,” not wanting to see this cringy shit anymore, but deep down just wanting him to be safe and content, never seeing him smile this hard in his life. Knowing he's never felt this way before, his ex wife being set up by an arranged marriage, she wasn't bad but he definitely didn't love her along with her complaining, but luckily a quick swipe of his card shut her up, finally divorcing after all theses years.

“My dad isn't still too young to take over, you know?”  

“No.” he stated, stepping outside to light his cigar, resting his back against the wall as he took a puff. “Great men are taught, not born.” He uttered out, choking on the smoke as he brought it back up to his lips. He was dependable, not regretting having his son at a young age, but swearing to never push this life on his son and grandson until he was gone.

“Yeah, he's stubborn.” keishin uttered under his breath, running his hands through his hair as he grabbed his drink and keys, walking towards the door while waving a quick goodbye to you.

“How the hell is someone younger than me gonna be my step grandma, can’t get someone your own age to date you?” he chuckled out in awe. But at the end of the day he was on your side, family was family, defending you like your own personal bodyguard. Hearing something along the lines of “She’s some old man’s sugar baby.” almost daily until he ‘took care of it’ a few months ago.

“You're just mad, that an old man like me gets more than you.” ikkei laughed, coughing out the rest of the smoke while coming up behind you. Wrapping his arm around your waist already pulling you back to his office as you gladly let him.

“Ok, shitty old man.” keshin replied, closing the door behind him. He knew it wasn't because of the money or the power, because there were many other men on his level trying to win your attention. Thinking there must be something going on in your head to be with him, and there was.

Love.

The first man to ever make you feel some type of way, to make you blush. Was it practical, no. Putting it to the back of your head that he would be long gone by the time you were even close to his age.

But the way he made you feel so light and free around him after only being here for a while. Looking into your eyes as you fixed him up, making you genuinely laugh as he didn't want you to stress over him, surprising him that you were just naturally calm.

You two fell for each other quickly, not even lasting a week before you two fucked. Hearts appearing in your eyes around him; not caring about having your own family, just becoming part of his as he always kept his promises. 

“You wanna go out later.” he said loosely wrapping his hand around your waist, pulling you back into his lap. “m’sorry i haven't had time for you lately.” Looking up at his gray hair, eyes moving down to his body still this toned after all these years, aging like the finest wine.

“No.” you mumbled out, fingers running down his chest, getting caught up in his chain again. “Just wanna…..stay with you.” A shy smirk appearing on your face as the words left your lips.

Leaning into your shoulder, lips touching your neck as he whispered into your ear, scruff tickling your jaw as you let out a slight smile.“Stay with me, hmm? And what does that entail...?” 

Already getting off his thighs, standing in front of him as you ran your hands up your body, his joining you as he wrapped them around your waist pulling you closer to him, chin resting on your stomach while his hands gently rested on your hips. “No one has ever managed to capture my attention like you have.” he said, hands lingering on you.

He had no shame in admitting it, his words plaguing your head, “I always tell the truth, no matter how hard it is.” Looking up to your flustered face, no one could ever make you feel as loved and appreciated as him.

“Ok old man.” you giggled out, taking your time stripping in front of him. Resting your hand on his shoulder for support as you slowly slid your skirt down, hugging your ass just right as you felt his soft, intense gaze never once leaving you. Eyeing you up as you fumbled with your buttons, hands meeting yours taking it off for you, being bare as the day you were born.

“You getting on your knees pretty girl?”

Nodding while letting out a quiet, shy “yeah” at the words that left his mouth. Lowering yourself onto the ground, trying to replace your timidness that only came around him. Hands resting on his knees working their way up his thighs, his stress already disappearing as your fingers played with his zipper, eyes locking with yours as you pulled it down.

The nervousness leaving you as his warm hand rested on your cheek, whimpering in need as your gaze fell on the hard cold metal that was standing before his cock. Resting on his abdomen, cunt growing wetter at the thought of the previous events, wanting it in your mouth, fucked down your throat.

Reading your mind, already loosening his pants enough to set it free. Pointer finger resting on the side as he parted your lips, immediately giving way. Tongue sticking out lewdly, spit and drool already falling off the tip of it, his other hand angling it down toward your mouth. “You trust me, don’t you Baby?”

Moaning out another muffled “yeah” at the weight of the barrel resting on your tongue, pushing it deeper down your mouth, the whines getting caught at the back of your throat. Body growing tingly, cunt leaking onto the floor as he gently bobbed your head head back and forth until you got the hang of it.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck... your sweet little mouth taking it all.” Whimpering at his words, eyes fluttering open at him, meeting his gaze as your vision grew blurry. Hands reaching for his cock, working there way up his thighs until you felt his bulge, groaning at the touch. Wanting to make him feel as good as you.

Letting your spit make a mess on his fingers as he slowly pushed the glock farther down until you choked on the muzzle. Pulling it out at the lewd sound of your wet gasp, catching your breath, looking at your lashes still wet, lips covered in drool. Dragging the spit covered barrel down, sliding between your tits pressing it against your nipples, shivering at the cold feeling. 

“You gonna let me fuck your throat, sweetheart?”

Nodding quickly, letting out a strained “mhmm” as you moved your fingers around the base of his cock. Adjusting himself as he stroked it a few times before letting you take control. A moan leaving his mouth as you tilted your head to kiss his tip, parting your lips without his help as you flicked your tongue against it, your shiny lips making a mess already.

“Fuck angel, such a good girl. Open up that little mouth more for me sweetheart.” His hand came behind your neck, the firm grip leaving your mouth open as he pulled himself out, admiring the sight below him as the praise made you listen to his silent command. Soft wet smacks from him slapping the head of his cock against your tongue, looking so lewd, like the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life.

“… goddamn baby. Fuck…”

His scratchy voice letting out another moan as he leaned back onto the headrest of the couch. Your trembling hands gripping onto his thighs, nails leaving imprints as he continued to abuse your throat. The office was quiet besides the filthy wet sounds of you choking around him.

Opening your lids and gazing up at him, pupils so wide and eyes so red. Looking the prettiest you could, so needy and compliant, letting him use your throat as he pleased. “That’s it, angel… oh, fuck…m’gonna-”

Tears freely down your cheeks as you gagged, little strings of saliva dripping from your chin, body on fire as his thrusts got rougher, fucking up into your mouth as his hands gripped tighter around your neck holding you in place.

Sealing your lips around him, sucking in more as his hips stalled, grabbing your head with both of his hands. And with a long groan, music to your ears, shoving your face all the way down into his crotch, balls resting on your chin as you felt him release in your mouth, so hot and thick. Doing as you were told, always wanting to be his good girl, someone he could always rely on, someone he could always use when needed.

“You okay?” He asked, stroking your cheek as dizzily shook your head up and down. Reaching his hand forward, tipping your jaw upward to see you better. Cunt throbbing as his eyes met yours, clenching and releasing around nothing while he dragged his thumb across your swollen lips. 

“Words, sweetheart.” His voice was soft and stern, ordering you around gently as you did you best to choke it out.

“y-yes”

“Let me see.” Parting your lips, with his ring covered finger, mouth opening to show him that his cum was still there. Smiling as he let go, muttering out “good girl.”, mouth closing as he let you swallow, the salty taste making you wince under your breath while he pet the side of your face down to your neck. 

“You sure angel? ….You know i don't like lying.” he said, resting his hand on your cunt, fingers dipping in shallowly as you almost went limp in his hold, Knees locking just in time, so focused on keeping your composure that you didn't see him smirking at your state. His finger curling inside you, as you tried to hold back your whimper, body unconsciously rocking back and forth into his hand.

Finally snapping, trying to be on your best behavior best you couldn't help it anymore, knowing what he was doing to you. “Please,” you whined out. “Want you to fuck me like you always do, want you to fuck me so good.” No shame left in your body as you started taking action, nails clawing into his bicep, your eyes half lidded trying to hold back the tears forming.

Letting out a whine muttered by your teeth sinking into your lips when his hand pulls away, lingering there not for long as he easily hikes your leg up over his waist, aligning his cock to your dripping cunt, rubbing it over your folds, teasing you, wanting to make his sweet angel beg. 

“i-ikkei, please” you lead, gripping his arms, as pushed into you slowly. Cooing at you for being so patient with him. Head dropping onto his shoulder as a broken noise escaped your lips, legs tightening around his waist, clenching around him.

Pushing the rest of himself inside you, hissing as you swallow him up in your warmth. “Fuck sweetheart, you always… feel so, -fuck, so goddamn good,”

“Relax baby,” he groaned out, head thrown back. “Little cunt’s so tight, gonna get my will instead of my kids if you keep it up.” Your smile barely forming before it gets cut off, moaning at the painful feeling of his cock stretching you out.

“Such a... fuck, such a good little girl for me,” He praises, hot breath on your neck as you clench even tighter at his words, the feeling of bhim so deep inside of you, nudging your cervix making your head spin. “So pretty,  I'd do anything for you, you know that?”

“m���close.” you whimpered. His love confessions making you lose your mind completely, nails digging into his chest, slightly groaning at the sting.. “Please, p-please please,” you begged through a sob, tears swelling up in your eyes. Placing his lips on yours before you can gasp out begs anymore. Trying to whimper out his name before he fucks you roughly with a thrust that hits your g spot, making you cum all over him, sticky wetness enclosing the both of you as it dripped down his balls and onto the sofa. 

“There you go baby,” he muttered against your lips, but you’re too far gone to even pay attention. Working his cock inside of you, gently pushing up into your cunt as your shaking body twitches in his hold, eyes rolling to the back of your head from your orgasm, still trying to come down from your high. “You know I always got you.”

He pulls out of you slowly when you have calmed down but you weren’t done. “w-wanna make you cum.” your croaky voice pouted out.

“Hm? You already did sweetheart.” Shaky legs positioning yourself on top of him, resting your hands on his shoulders. “no...want you to cum in me.”

Watching as you spread open you cunt, placing his tip on your entrance. Looking down at him with a heavy lust in your eyes, not wasting any time sliding back into you. “You’re so greedy.” He says into your ear, a roughness to his voice. Back arching as his arm wraps around your waist, leaning back to give him a view of himself bottoming out in you. The feeling of the fullness already has you cumming again. “...So fucking perfect.” 

Rubbing your clit with his fingers as his lips attached to your nipple, locking you in his hold, your body trembling from the overstimulation. Cock repeatedly ramming into your g spot as your cunt is being lovingly abused. “Fuck” He mutters out, words getting trapped into your skin, fingers pinching your swollen clit, letting out a loud sob as tears break free. 

“Fuck baby, I’m close.” He said, breath growing sporadic as his hips start stuttering. Chasing after his high, fingers slapping your clit as you squealed.

“C-, cum in me, please. You gotta, p-please!” You cry out, pushing him over the edge. Breaking free of your tits, mouth letting out deep groans as he is spilling his load into you, coming for the third around him. Body freezing up, seeing black and stars, walls clamping around him even tighter, wanting to milk him dry for everything he's got. 

Not even realizing that he's holding you into him, balls resting on you cunt as he's still inside of you, knowing you'd throw a fit if he pulled out. Body slump and tired as he presses a light kiss on the top of your head, large hands soothing your body as they worked their way up and down your back.

“I-, I love you,” you choked out, resting your head into his shoulder. His heart softening as he kissed your lips softly, sighing as he leaned back with you in his arms. Gently humming to ease you into sleep, not caring how he was gonna take care of this later. ”I love you too, baby.” He whispered into your ear, looking around his office full of money and countless items worth millions, but none made his heart race like you could, not even close.

“...I love you, more than you'll ever know.” 

[sparklingchan]

Ruby Eyes|| Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word count : 7.3k+ 

Warnings : Mention of an accident, cuss words, divorce, a single kiss.

Genre : Romance, Soulmate AU, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers.

Description: Seo Changbin has done everything in his capacity to remove and replace you, yet fate seems to have different plans for the both of you.

A/N : Hello everyone ahhh I know it’s been so long y’all. So many things have been going on including exams and internships and I just didn’t have the patience to write :(( This one shot was written as a part of a collab event by wonderful, dear Ro! 

I hope y’all like it!

"So, how's it being back, y/n?"

Your dad looks older now than he did the last time you saw him - probably two years ago, when you were leaving the country.

You missed him, really. You missed his warmth and his wisdom and how he was a sharp contrast to your mother, more calm and composed. Sometimes you wonder how your mother had even managed to get your custody after their divorce.

"Okay, I guess." You lie.

You didn't want your father to know how your feelings are all over the place, ranging from sadness to anger and longingness.

It's a weird thing to be experiencing such a cocktail of emotions when you'd convinced yourself these feelings had disappeared the day you left the old neighborhood, seven years ago. You had not felt any attachment towards the new neighborhood that you and your mother then went on to live for the next two years before you moved abroad for your studies. Yet you feel nostalgic now, as your father drives you through your old old neighborhood.

"How's mom?" He asks, taking a left to a road all too familiar to you, "Is she still going to therapy?"

You nod, "She's getting better, I think. The new country seems to have changed her. The therapy is helping too. She has many friends there now. "

At first when you were offered a job at one of the biggest publishing companies in the world, you were ecstatic. But everything soon died down when you found out you were posted at a branch in the country you'd left behind. It was your mother who'd convinced you to take it.

"I know you don't like being back, y/n." Your dad smiles sadly when he pulls over infront of your old house.The house that contains years of secrets, tears, lies and whispered confessions in front of the mirror stands in front of you, as grand and pretty as ever. It looks different but similar enough to make you tear up a tad bit.

"But I'm glad you're here. I really am." He says, "I renovated the house a little when you told me you were moving back. I hope it's okay."

You smile at the old man, wrapping your arms around him, "Thanks, dad. I missed you. I'm glad you're here, too."

He pecks your forehead, "I missed you, too, love."

Moving in doesn't take a lot of time since your dad had already set up everything. You just had to get some of your stuff and you were ready to kick start your stay.

That evening, your father leaves after making you promise to call him if anything happens at all and when the front door closes, you find yourself in the company of your old room.

You lie on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as you hum an old tune to yourself. And without meaning to, you find yourself thinking about him; The man you hadn't seen or talked to for a whole seven years. The man who'd tried his best to stay in touch with you yet gave up when you didn't reciprocate the same.

A horrific realization then dawns on you,

He'd obviously replaced you now.

The familiar clouds of grief loom over you, threatening to engulf you any moment now.

No. Not now, please.

Getting up from your bed immediately, you shake your head as you make your way to the mirror- the mirror that had encountered more honest tears and smiles and words than any human ever had. You stare at your reflection as tears escapes your eyes, the bright red iris of your right eye staring back at you when you rub your tears off.

You shiver.

"Shit, I forgot to wear the contacts."

Quickly grabbing your lenses from your bag, you put them on, concealing the scary blood red color of your right eye. You take two long strides across the room and pulling your favorite black hoodie over your head, you walk out of the door.

By the time you manage to leave the house, it's already 10:30 in the evening. A quiet calmness has fallen over the town, as the shops and restaurants near the market square slowly start closing up. Your feet are as if on autopilot, taking you to that one place you know would still be open; Yang's Café.

And rightly so, the smell of freshly brewed coffee reaches your nostrils when you walk through their main door, past the group of chatty teenagers waiting outside. This place hasn't changed much, you realize, the brown and golden hues of the place and the vintage coffee cups collection in the far corner of the Cafe are still the same. The only difference is that you're no longer here with your best friend right after school, you are here all alone on an evening too quiet for your liking.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

When you turn around to face the owner of the voice, you are stunned.

"Jeongin?"

Jeongin's family has owned this Cafe for three generations now, from his great-grandparents, his grandparents, his parents and soon enough it'll pass down to him. As a kid, you remember often playing with Jeongin at the park and teaming up with him during quiz competition. He was always sweet and always smiley.

But the handsome young man that stands in front of you doesn't resemble the Jeongin you once used to know, not even a little bit.

"What..what happened to you!" You exclaim, taking his face in your hands, "Where are the braces! And the specs and wow, would you look at the blue hair!"

Jeongin can only let out a few giggles as you continue squishing his face and complaining how big he's grown in only over seven years.

The customers give you weird stares but only the heavens above know how genuinely happy you are to see Jeongin, albeit the fact you almost couldn't recognize him there for a second.

"What have you done to my child?" You mutter when you've finally calmed down and Jeongin takes you to your seat.

"I have a mother, y/n, thank you very much," he laughs, taking a seat opposite to yours, loosening the Barista apron around his torso, "And I missed you too."

You attempt to pinch his cheeks but he is quick to dodge.

"So how have you been?" He asks through giggly breaths.

You sigh, "I'm good... I feel weird being back here, honestly but I think I'll get used to it soon. What about you?"

"I've been good. Graduated a few months back, now I'm working here full time." He ushers over a waiter, "What would you like, y/n?"

You don't even think for a second while responding, "An iced Americano, please."

The waiter notes your order and walks away before Jeongin pinches your arm teasingly.

"Ouch. What?"

"Old habits die hard, huh? You always used to drink an iced coffee whenever we hung out here. I am glad to see nothing much has changed," Jeongin laughs, "You and Changbin, too!"

That one name sends your entire mind into a frenzy. Changbin. Seo Changbin. The love of your life. The man who you wouldn't even go to school without, the man who had saved you from a terrible accident, also the man who probably no longer even remembers you.

And you realise, despite everything, your heart yearns for him, still- for you wouldn't be in so much pain at the mention of his name otherwise.

Jeongin seems to have noticed your discomfort because he immediately changes the topic, "Anyway, you have to try our new chocolate cake. It's heavenly, I'm telling you."

Your reason to leave the neighborhood wasn't a secret, really. It was public knowledge that your mother had blamed Changbin for the fatal accident you almost had.

You're grateful for what Jeongin does, and try your best to engage in conversations about the neighborhood and old gossip you'd missed out on. Yet all you want to do is drive out of the damn Cafe and find changbin.

"Y/n?"

Or maybe, Changbin will find you.

Behind Jeongin, you see the blurry image of a man that had once caused you great misery yet you had never felt as happy as when you were with him.

"Hi..hi, Changbin." You stammer as you see the said man walk towards your table.

The seven years have as if done some magic on him, because the Changbin that walks towards you in no way resembles your high school best friend.

With thick buff arms, new ear piercings and silver jewelry gracing his wrists and fingers, you have a hard time actually accepting the fact that Seo Changbin is really there, in front of you.

"Been long, huh?" He grins, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and somewhere in the depths of your conscience, you realize it might have been your fault. You'd done everything in your capacity to break apart from this friendship, ignoring his calls, changing your number, even going as far as blocking him on all social media.

So, did you really expect him to welcome you back with open arms when you had caused him so much pain?

Jeongin brings an extra chair for Changbin to sit on and soon, the three of you are talking, maybe not like the old, happy days but it's still better than nothing. Changbin looks at you everytime you throw your head back and laugh, your eyes squeezing shut as his heart clenches in his chest.

You are really back home.

"So what have you been doing? I told you guys about me." Jeongin says, stealing a bite off of Changbin's cheesecake.

"Oh..you know," Changbin giggles, the tip of his ears turning a light pink shade.

You raise your eye brows in confusion.

"Been busy with the wedding and all."

Your heart drops. "Wedding? W-whose wedding?" You try to laugh it off but it's very evident from the way you're gripping your glass of iced Americano that it has affected you. A lot more than you actually thought.

"I'm getting married, y/n," Changbin smiles, "I'm so glad you could be around for the wedding."

*

Your grief stricken self has not gotten up from the bed since last night and you're thankful to Jeongin for finally checking up on you or else you would have gone deeper into the spiral hole of despair.

"Are you really going to be like this, y/n?"

You hate being miserable on the very second day of your stay. You hate depending on Jeongin. But you can barely move without bursting out into tears,so it seems as though there's no better idea than have someone take care of you at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Jeongin. " You manage to speak when he places a bag full of snacks and drinks on the dining table, "And thanks."

Jeongin chuckles, "Don't thank me, just yet. Guess who wants to meet up with you?"

Your eyes widen for a split second as you sit up on the couch, "Who?!"

No, he wouldn't, would he?

"It's not the person you think, y/n. Calm down." He laughs, "It's Bang Chan. Your senior, you remember?"

Oh, yes, the infamous Bang Chan. Shy smiles, dimples, curly hair, angelic eyes. Yeah, you remember the school's heartthrob. Very clearly.

"I was talking to him this morning and he said he'd be very glad to catch up with you again." Jeongin settles beside you, "It's not a date, y/n. He's an old friend. It wouldn't hurt, would it? You can't possibly sit here all day long crying about him."

You open your mouth to argue, but only air slips out and you realise you don't have anything to defend your miserable state with. You knew this was coming; when you cut off all ties with Seo Changbin, you knew this was coming.

Jeongin is right; you need to go out and meet new people.

You roll your eyes before pinching Jeongin's cheeks, "Fine. Give him my number."

He responds by pulling your cheeks as well.

*

The first day of work is weirdly gut wrenching.

You hadn't expected yourself to be this nervous but here you are, muttering under your breath as you make way towards the office.

"You'll be okay, y/n," you breathe in, "You've worked hard for this." And breathe out.

A few more minutes of self pep talking and you see all your hard work and expectations go down the drain as you feel a few droplets of rain fall onto your head. You look up and the dark, heavy clouds greet you.

Bloody brilliant.

You see the office goers around you jog quickly to the nearest shelter but you're short on luck today as your gaze falls on your watch and you realize you don't have enough time to wait for the rain to pass.

So you grab your office bag, cover your head with that and make a run for it.

The sole of your high heel shoes dig into your feet and a throbbing pain shoots through your body, as you wince. Note to yourself - never wear heels to office again.

You also secretly pray to the gods that your contact lens don't get washed off. Turning up at your new office on the first day with a blood red iris doesn't feel too fun, really.

"Do you need a lift?"

You had been so busy running to your office that you don't notice when a black car drives toward you and the driver rolls down the window, offering you a smile.

Seo Changbin.

Your heart skips a few beats.

"Y/n, do you need a lift?"

You blink back to reality when he clicks his fingers in front of you, "I-I mean if that's okay with you."

Changbin smiles, pointing to the passenger's seat, "Come on in."

When you're comfortably seated in his car, using his spare towel to wipe off the water from your face and hair, his questions start-

"So.." He steps on the break when the traffic light turns red, "How have you been?"

You look at the digital clock displayed on the cars' LED, and sigh. You're late to work and you're stuck in traffic with the one man you'd rather not be stuck in traffic with. Brilliant.

"Good." Your eyes are focused on the cars outside the window, "You?"

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again, "Fine."

Fine? Just Fine? Shouldn't he be over the clouds, now that the wedding is finally around the corner?

"Okay.."

"Actually, I meant to ask you earlier, y/n." He turns to you, a gentle smile playing at his lips, "I am throwing a party this weekend. I'd love it if you could come by. And I could introduce you to her."

You sink back into your seat, biting your lip, wondering if you want to ever know who her is. Your peace of mind is more important than meeting your ex crush's fiance, right? And if you do end up going to the party, whom would you hang out with? It's not like you know any of his rich friends and cousins and there's no way you'd hang out with Changbin and the said fiance.

You are about to respectfully reject the invitation when a sudden, seemingly good idea pops into your head.

Bang Chan.

You nod, shrugging, "Okay. I'll be there."

You clasp your hands together as he continues driving and you look out the window, unable to suppress the bubbling excitement.

"Great, then." He replies, suspiciously.

*

The evening of the party finally arrives, much to your dismay, you find yourself seated next to Chan. He's just the same as the guy in your memory; a gentleman.

"You look pretty, y/n." He had greeted you as he held the car door open for you, "I'm glad we could meet up."

His words turn your cheeks into a darker shade of red but your heart doesn't beat quite as furiously as you'd expect it to.

Muttering a small thank you, you seat comfortably in the car while Chan drives towards Changbin's family's old Farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. You've been there before - during summer holidays, he would take you there with his family. That place was only filled with happy memories of sunshine, swimming pools, watermelon juice and bonfires.

You swallow the grief that comes along with these memories.

"Are we here already?" Chan pulls over in a familiar driveway not even ten minutes later, jogging up to your door and clicking it open, like the gentleman he is.

"Yeah, we're here." Chan smiles, "Very less traffic tonight."

You guys walk through the huge metallic gate, making your way through the main door of the house.

"Uh..." People are crowded mostly around the front door and in the front yard, so you and Chan have to push and squeeze your way into the Farmhouse. You hate the feeling of sweaty bodies pressing against you (or holding Chan's hand for stability) but desperate situations call for desperate measures.

"I hate it here." You mutter when you later find yourself by the pool side, swirling the drink that you don't even plan on drinking and looking at all the flushed faces having the time of their lives.

Thankfully, Chan happens to be on the same boat as you.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, Chan. We could have just gone for a movie."

Chan giggles, "Hey, it's alright. I don't mind, I'm glad I could spend some time with you after so many years."

His eyes shine and dimples deepen.

You whisper, "Yeah, me too."

Chan is a handsome man, good at all kinds of sport, good at arts, very smart and intelligent yet there's a part of you that knows you'd never be able to reciprocate his flirtatious words. It's sad, really, but that's just how life is.

"Wow, those two seem to be having the time of their lives." Chan chuckles, pointing at someone behind you.

It's quite dark outside, the only source of light being a few decorative fairylights hung at random places haphazardly.

Hiding behind a huge, tall bush, you see a couple, kissing each other like it were the last day on the planet.

The guy's hands roam all over the woman's body and the woman is so loud that even you could hear her sighs and moans. When she pulls away to catch her breath for a second, Chan asks you, "You know her?"

"Nope. I don't know either of them."

You look away; what kind of creep looks at a happy couple like that? (Not a creep, just a lonely and touch starved person)

"Should we check out the dinner table?" Chan suggests and you agree with a nod, "I hope there's no crowd there."

As expected, there actually isn't a crowd there - there's only Changbin, sitting and nibbling on a pizza slice while scrolling through the phone.

The moment your eyes land on him, your feet as if stop on their own and your heart bangs furiously against your chest.

He's breathtakingly gorgeous.

By the time you debate in your head whether or not you want to sit there and fill your stomach, Chan has already made his way to Changbin.

"Hey, Bin!" He greets him with a smile.

Changbin looks at Chan with an unamused smile, the same one from your high school days, when these two were named the biggest rivals on campus. You wonder if somewhere deep in his heart, Changbin had still not let go of that rivalry.

"Hey, Changbin." You manage to whisper before sitting beside Chan.

He looks almost angry.

"You should have the pizza. It's good." He mutters, turning to pass you a slice of pizza on a plate, "Help yourself, Chan."

Yup, there it is. The Seo Changbin that would kill to be on top. You feel worse about dragging Chan here now when neither of you were having a good time.

"Thanks, mate. " Chan replies.

Your ears ring with the sound of approaching footsteps, and when a pretty girl comes walking in and takes Changbin in her arms, your heart stings. Like a fresh wound.

"Y/n.." Chan whispers to you as you watch the two collide in a loving embrace, Changbin smiling at her and running his fingers through her hair.

Your heart hurts at how happy and content he looks.

You could have had that, a part of you thinks, if you weren't such a coward, it would have been you instead of her.

"Y/n," Chan calls you again.

"What?" Your tone is harsher than you intended, "What happened?"

You think Chan is about to give you the whole it-is-time-to-move-on talk but he doesn't, instead he points at the girl and whispers,

"It's her. The girl we saw earlier."

The rest of the night is blurry to you, all conversations, all gazes, all thoughts just feel ....like an awkward dream.

"We have to tell Changbin."

You're sitting at Yang's Cafe at 1 am the same night, watching Jeongin's brother guide his staff to clean the place up.

"I agree." Chan says, biting the inside of his cheeks.

While you, on the other hand, are completely zoned out, staring at the glass of water placed in front of you and watching the droplets on its surface race each other.

"Y/n, what do you think?" Jeongin asks when you don't take part in their discussions.

You sigh, "I don't know. I really don't. As much as it troubles me that Changbin is being cheated on, I don't want to get involved in their personal relationship. "

"Let's not tell anyone for now, then. But someday in the future, before that goddamn wedding, we have to tell him. He deserves to know." Chan agrees.

You purse your lips and close your eyes.

Chan is right.

Changbin deserves to know the truth.

*

"So, how's it being back in town, y/n?"

"It feels good. Weird, but good." You smile at your old teacher, "How have you been, Miss Oh?"

Your teacher adds sugar to the cup of tea in her hands and then looks at you, smiling - the same old smile, except with more wrinkles now, "I've been good. I'm retiring next year so I'm glad I could see you before that, huh?"

You nod your head, "I'm glad too. The school hasn't changed much, unlike what I had expected."

Other than the addition of some new labs and libraries, and the change in color of the walls, everything was still the same. No place in this old school building feels foreign to you.

"Ugh, these administration people I tell you, y/n, they're cheap idiots. They won't spend a single penny on infrastructure unless it's absolutely necessary." She complains as you giggle in response,

"They've always been like that."

Miss Oh gulps some tea from her cup, "Anyway, y/n, I have a class now. I would have loved to stay and chat, really, but I'm afraid that might get me in to trouble."

"No issues, Miss Oh. Go ahead. I'll just roam around the school a little more though, if that's okay."

After Miss Oh leaves, you step out of her cabin and walk the familiar corridors, reminiscent of the memories you have here. Studying a few minutes before tests, bunking classes, running to class when you're late, hanging out with your friends- these corridors have seen you grow in love, in friendship, in life. There's absolutely nothing that could ever replace these memories.

Mindlessly, you wander around the third floor, walking toward the end of the corridor before stopping in front of an old door, way too familiar to not try and push open.

While a part of you tells you it might not be a good idea to go into that room again, there's also a part of you that thinks it's a bloody brilliant idea.

Pushing the door open, you walk into the old dusty room, sighing in relief when you see a particular set of letters still carved on the wall.

CB and YN were here.

You finally let your tears run free, as you crouch down to touch the letters.

Your heart aches at how much you miss Changbin being an important part of your life and how much you miss being his top priority. And your heart aches for Changbin, who is so in love with his fiancé and has no idea he's being cheated on.

You almost want to leave this town and go back to your mother, away from this terrible mess. Yet you don't find it in yourself to act on those thoughts.

Maybe, it is your fear of abandoning him once again that stops you. Or, maybe it is simply the unconditional love you harbor for him.

* Surprisingly, Yang's Cafe is near empty that afternoon.

"Did something happen, y/n? You look really worried." Changbin has his arms crossed over his chest, looking at you with a tense frown.

"Um..it's kind of complicated." You sigh. For a second, you see the genuine concern and innocence on his face, and you wonder if it is worth telling him the truth at all because it would kill you to see him lose his smile but then, his engagement band shines on his ring finger and your stomach turns unpleasantly.

He has to know. From you. In person.

"Changbin, that day at your party...I saw something. " You whisper, "Something I shouldn't have. I should have turned a blind eye really but I can't. My conscience won't allow it. I'm sorry, Bin."

"Y/n, it's okay, just tell me," he reaches over and wraps his fingers around yours, soft and gentle, "You're scaring me."

"Changbin, your fiance is cheating on you. I-I saw her kissing another man that night. Chan saw it too." You feel sick even having to say this to him, "I think you should confront her."

He sucks in a deep breathe, his face completely void of any emotions as he extracts his hands from yours.

"I know." Is all he says.

His eyes drill into yours, as if accusing you of a crime. He looks angry. Just how he looked the day you brought Chan to his party.

"Why are you still marrying her then?" You question.

He sits up straight, "Y/n, I wish I could explain. But I can't. I'm sorry. And please, stay out of this, okay?"

"Why? Why should I stay out of it?" Your voice threatens to break, "I cannot watch my best friend marry a woman who's not loyal. You deserve better than this, Bin."

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Changbin's lips as he taps his foot against the floor, "Let me correct you, y/n. You were my best friend. Seven years ago. You're not anymore."

Your heart shatters.

A part of you knows you deserve this after ghosting him for seven long years. You were the center of each other's world at one point of time.How could you have been so selfish to ever think that your absence and lack of communication wouldn't hurt him?

"Changbin, I'm sorry for everything I did okay. B-but I never stopped thinking or worrying about you. Even for one second. And I still do."

Changbin pushes his chair back and stands up while you stay frozen in your seat.

"It doesn't seem like that though. "

"What do you even mean!"

"Chan. I mean Chan, y/n." He grabs his phone and purse, "Goodbye, y/n. I hope Chan turns out to be a better friend than I ever did." With that, the love of your life walks out of Yang's Cafe.

And for once, he doesn't even look back.

* "Y/n, don't let go of my hand!"

Changbin is panting heavily, his voice shaking with fear as he desperately tries to hold onto you.

He should have known it would be a bad idea to play badminton near the infamous cliff in your town yet when you had showed him your innocent smile and pleading eyes that day, he just couldn't say no.

Your sweaty hands clutch his, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Your free hand grabs the rough surface of the rocky cliff to keep yourself from falling.

You want to cry; but you're too traumatized to even let out more than a few terrified grunts. "Y/n," he yells, "I'm going to try and pull you up one more time, okay?."

You don't even remember how you had ended up in this situation; one second you were happily giggling, playing badminton with Changbin and in the next second, you found yourself hanging by the cliff, praying for your dear life.

With all the energy he has left, he tries to pull you up onto the surface.

"Y/n, you have to free the other hand. Let go of that rock." He pants.

You shake your head vigorously, you know you would not survive if you let go of the rock, you'd fall thousands of feet below into absolute nothingness.

"Y/n, please listen to me." Changbin pleads, now crying, "Please. I'll catch you, I promise. I'll not let you die. Just..please."

Changbin sounds like he's about to give up and in all honesty, you couldn't blame him really. Everytime your eyes fall on what's beneath you, a part of you loses hope.

"Please, come on, y/n," he's still pulling at your free hand, while his right hand awaits desperately to grab the other hand. A mixture or sweat and tears grace his face, making him shine under the bright afternoon sun. Your heart aches at the mere thought of never seeing him again- your friend, your childhood crush, your partner in everything.

Well, here goes nothing then.

You suck in a deep breath and let go the Rock, immediately reaching for Changbin. He is quick to grab both of your arms and in one swift movement, he pulls you up onto the surface.

You fall onto his chest, "Y-you saved me."

Changbin let's out a sob mixed with a relieved giggle, pulling you into his arms.

Your eyes feel heavy, as darkness slowly begins to engulf your vision.

"Oh God, I am so sorry this happened, y/n. It's all my fault." He cries, rubbing your back softly, "I'm so sorry. I thought I was going to lose you, oh God. Fuck!"

You want to tell him that it was never his fault, and that you wouldn't even be alive if not for him but your body betrays you and your body goes limp against his.

*

"I'm not leaving this neighborhood."

Your hands rest angrily on your waist as your mom frantically walks from your closet to where the suitcase is spread open on your bed, shifting all your clothes. She dumps them inside the suitcase, not bothering to fold them even.

"You will do as I say! That Seo Changbin tried to push you off of a cliff and heaven knows what he might do next!" Your mom yells back.

You sit at the edge of your bed, trying to keep yourself calm, "Mom, I told you it was an accident. I fell because I was going after the shuttlecock and didn't notice the cliff. Moreover, why would my best friend want try to kill me!"

Your mom let's out a sarcastic laugh, closing the suitcase roughly. She looks at you with eyes full of contempt and a part of you knows that there's no point in trying to convince her. Her mind is already made. Yet you refuse to go down without a fight.

"You're just sixteen, sweetie. You don't know anything about the cruel world, " your mother sighs, "Rich people are not friends with anyone. Changbin may be nice to you but he only sees you as a pathetic poor girl."

"Mom, we're not even poor!"

"Yes, I know. But those filthy rich businessmen consider everyone below their economic status poor. His family probably doesn't like him being friends with you which is why they asked him to get rid of you."

You think of Mrs. Seo's face in your head, always smiling and always welcoming. You remember Changbin's sister and how she'd promised to let you borrow her dress for this year's winter prom. And you think about Changbin- his face, his smile, his passion for music and his protectiveness towards you. Why would these people ever want to hurt you?

"Mom, you're being ridiculous right now! Do you even hear yourself!" You stand up from the bed, now beyond frustrated.

She walks upto you and grabs your arm tightly, nails digging into your skin as you whimper slightly. "You will listen to me. I am your mother and you will listen to me. " she growls, "Pack the rest of your stuff. We're leaving tomorrow."

When she finally walks out your bedroom, your first instinct is to dress yourself in your black hoodie and track pants, and quietly slip out of the back window of your room.

The cold air nips at your skin, goosebumps slowly appearing on your arms and legs but you're too preoccupied to pay too much heed to it.

You reach Changbin's house and like always, walk up to the backyard and climb upto his room through the emergency staircase.

When Changbin hears knocks on his window, he quickly removes his headphones, "y/n?"

He walks upto the window and let's you in, his heart more at peace now than it's ever been the entire day. The guilt from the accident you had earlier was clawing at his conscience.

His room is mostly dark except for his table lamp. You notice the lyrics notebook lying on the table, open with some scribbles and random phrases on the pages.

"How are you feeling?"

You sit at the edge of his bed, cross legged while he kneels on the floor to get to your level. His hands find yours naturally.

"Fine," you swallow the tears that have been accumulating since you left the house, "Changbin, I- we're leaving tomorrow."

Changbin is taken aback; his heart shattering into billions of pieces at your words.

"Leaving? What do you mean Leaving?" his voice trembles.

You lick your dry lips and tell him everything your mom had told you earlier. When his face twists bitterly, a part of you wishes you'd held your tongue yet a bigger part of you wants Changbin to know the truth now; you didn't want him sending you off with lies in his mind and the fear of him finding out some years later just killed you inside.

"I'm so sorry, Changbin. Mom's just not been okay after the divorce." Your voice breaks when Changbin refuses to look at you, "I know she's speaking bullshit. But there's absolutely nothing I can do to change her mind, I've tried I swear. I'm sorry, Changbin."

When Changbin finally does look at you, even in the dim lit room, you see the tears glistening on his face, mirroring the ones that roll down your cheeks. "Why are you sorry, y/n? I don't blame your mom." He mutters, "It was partly my fault. I should have taken more care, I-"

You cup his cheek, "Shh. Bin, are we really going to spend my last night here crying and blaming ourselves? We might never see each other again."

The words sink deep into his soul, and he nods. He wills his tears back in as he grabs your hand tighter.

"Okay. What do you wanna do?"

You smile a little, "You're not gonna like it though. "

"Stargazing it is then." He giggles a little as the both of you make your way to balcony attached to his room.

It is quiet outside, unlike the noise in your head and you feel the calmness spreading to you when you look up at the stars.

Changbin brings a picnic mat from inside and spreads it out on the floor, along with two pillows and a blanket.

"We'll stay in touch, yeah? If you ever need anything, I'll be right here." He reassures you, lying beside you, hands behind his head.

You smile yet you cannot bring yourself to promise him the same because you know your mother would do everything in her power to push the two of you apart, even to the point of physically hurting Changbin. You would never want that so you'd rather distance yourself and let Changbin forget about you. And maybe, just maybe fate would be a little nicer to you and decide to bring you into his life again. Many years later.

He presses a soft kiss to your head, "You'll always be my best friend, y/n. I don't care how far we are."

It takes everything in your being to not repeat the words.

*

"Changbin, come on we're getting you to the hospital this instant, okay?" Mrs. Seo is furious next morning, running from room to room, looking through the list of doctors she'd saved just in case of emergency.

When she looks at her son, sitting on the sofa with one of his eye irises turning a glowing red, she is reassured that this is an emergency.

"How did this even happen, mom? I swear I didn't try to do anything funny with my eye." He murmurs, scared, "It feels so itchy, gosh!"

Mrs.Seo looks at him with concern just when the doctor picks the call, "Oh, hello Dr.Lee! Thank god you picked up!"

After his mom walks out of his room, Changbin quickly types you a text,

Binnie: Hey. Did you leave already?

Y/nnie: No not yet. We've stopped at the doctor's.

Changbin's eyes widen in alarm.

Binnie: What why?

You look at your face in the decorative mirror at the doctor's waiting room, one of your irises burning into a bright shade of ruby.

Y/nnie: Mom's running a cold.

You close the messenger app before he even replies, deciding to change your number and deleting all your old contacts as soon as you move into your new house. And as much as it hurt you, this one text turned out to be the last time Changbin and you ever talked.

*

It has been raining all day, which means you were stuck in your goddamn house with nothing to do but cry about Changbin and your lost friendship and your broken heart.

After you manage to get some food into your body during dinner time, you crawl back to your room and look into the mirror as you comb your hair and moisturize your skin.

(Self care is important, y'all)

Your red iris stares back at you, taunting your mistakes and calling you a coward.

If only you had still tried to keep in touch with him, if only that stupid accident wouldn't have happened in the first place, if only.

Suddenly, a knock on your balcony door makes you jump in your place.

Shit. Is it a burglar?

You grab the closest thing that could be classified as a weapon - which happens to be an umbrella.

The knocking continues.

"Y/n, it's Changbin." He yells, "Can I please talk to you?"

You freeze in your spot.

Why in the world is he here? Does he have anything worse to say? Is he here to invite you to his wedding? But why would he sneak in through the balcony when he can easily ring the main door bell.

"Y/n, are you in there?"

You quickly walk upto the door and slide it open, revealing Changbin, completely drenched in the rain. His wet hair stuck to his face and "Shit. What the- God, come inside!"

He obeys and tiptoes inside your room, a guilty expression plastered on his face.

You guide him directly to the bathroom and offer him a towel.

"What are you even doing here, Bin?" You lean against the door frame, hands crossed over your chest.

He is drying his hair with the towel when he looks up at you as if to answer your question but he stops. His mouth hangs open as his eyes remain glued to your face.

And that's when you realize why he looks so surprised.

"Shit- fuck." You turn around immediately, "my lenses," you mutter to yourself.

But before you can even walk upto your dressing table, Changbin has caught your wrist and spun you around, pulling you closer to his body.

"Your eye." He let's out a shaky breath.

"Yes, I know. Please don't freak out. It's always been like this after -"

"After the accident." He finishes your sentence, "I know."

Your mouth runs dry as his face draws in closer, "What do you mean you know? What do you know?"

He let's go of your wrist and takes a step back, turning around so that his back faces you.

And when he turns to look at you again, you swear you could have passed out there and then.

"Y-you have it too." You whisper, weak in the knees, "You have a red iris too."

Changbin gives you a small smile, "Yes, y/n."

"But why? What does this mean?" You say, "Is it a symptom of some chronic illness?"

"It's a soul mark."

"What's a soul mark?"

"It's a mark that exists on the bodies of soulmates."

You feel a pang in your chest; like someone was squeezing your heart out of your chest.

"Right," You fall back onto the bed, dazed with the sudden piece of information, "And how do you know all this?"

Changbin kneels down in front of you, hands finding yours. He looks more relaxed than he did since the first day you come back to town.

It almost feels like you had been given back your old friend.

"I've been doing my research, y/n. After you left, this is all I've been doing." He says, "This is also the reason why I had gotten engaged. By that time, I had given up on finding a soulmate. So I just settled for whatever I got. I didn't even feel bad when I found out my fiance was not in love with me. For the world, we might look like a happy couple, but truly, it was just a marriage of convenience for our parents' business."

You bite your lips wondering how to respond to these words. He'd laid bare his heart in front of you, something you never thought he'd do ever again.

"What now?" You say, tired.

He intertwines your fingers, "Also, I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have said all that."

You nod, "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it. And for the record, I and Chan have nothing going on."

"And for the record, I also broke off my engagement."

Your eyes widen as a gasp leaves your lips, "What? Why?"

"Because when I told my parents that I do not love my fiancé, and that I have only ever loved you, they said my happiness was more important than their business."

When you don't reply to his words, he looks worried, "Hey, you don't have to feel burdened to like me back and all okay? Literally, if you want me to leave you alone, I will. I understand-"

You pull him by the nape and place the softest, gentlest, most sincere kiss on his lips.

"I feel the same way, dumbass." You sigh as you pull him into your arms.

He muzzles his face in the crook of your neck, playing with your hair from behind, "So what now?"

"Let's start with a date." You say, "Let's take it slow."

Changbin wraps his arms tighter around you, kissing your cheek, "As you wish, my love. "

[fatedvisions]

The Scarlet Blaze

Operator Description

Lost, now found. Rose seeks to burn away the hatred she sees before her.

Operator Quote

“I’m not really sure what the issues you have here are, but I’ll help deal with them, Commander… Eh? You’re a Doctor? Could have fooled me.”

General Info

Codename: Rose

Place of Birth;

Race; Draco

Gender: Female

Birthday: Unknown

Eye Color; Blue

Complexion; Pale

Hair color; Red-Pink

Age: 20

Height: 160 cm

 Combat Evaluation

Physical Strength: Excellent

Mobility: Outstanding

Physiological Endurance: Excellent

Tactical Planning: Above Average

Combat Skill: Excellent

Originium Adaptability: Outstanding

Combat Experience: 10 years

 Profile

A warrior picked up by Rhodes Island outside of Sarkaz, Rose’s abilities in combat are mixed with a focus on extreme flames.

 Clinical Analysis

Increase Trust to 25.

 Imaging tests reveal blurry outlines of this operator's internal organs, clouded with abnormal dark spots. The circulatory system also shows signs of crystallization in some areas, denoting this operator as Infected

 [Cell-Originium Assimilation] 13%

 Rose has visible crystal formation on her body under her armor in multiple areas.

 [Blood Originium-Crystal Density] 0.28u/L

 Infection has spread harshly and is only minorly being pushed back by treatment. However, subject has no sign of failing health yet.

 Archive File 1

Increase Trust to 50.

 Rose is rather open instead of keeping to herself, being a bit more cheerful when outside of combat. Her focus is on seeing if others need assistance first, or finding good places around the landship to sleep in. She has refused to remove her armor as of late, resoning it as uncomfortable and rather painful for herself.

 Archive File 2

Increase Trust to 100.

Rose’s offensive capabilities are rather unusual. Even when using her flames, she tends to ignore how hot they can get, even when they start to burn at her arms and hands and need Medics to heal her. Oriopathy seems to have caused Rose to be hypoalgeniac, as she claims to "barely feel a thing" despite the damage done unto herself. And with flame temperatures reaching almost 1400 degrees C, I wonder if she even realizes how dangerous her flames can get.

-Sussuro, Medic Operator

 Archive File 3

Increase Trust to 150.

History? Why you asking me about that, Doc Kal? Ok, ok, I won’t call you Kal! Kal’tsit, better? Anyway… So Victoria was ruled by Draco once? And there may not be many… Eh, not my problem.

What? I’m being honest here. I don’t care about that. I care about helping people, keeping us safe. I hate seeing people, innocent people die. I’ve seen it happen too many times out there, out with them. Reunion… A lot of people start out good, but then they go bad. And those bad people hurt innocents. History doesn’t matter to me, simple as that Kal’tsit.

Even then… Oh, ‘Ghost’ is telling me it’s time for the meds. I’ll see you later, Doc!

-Conversation between Kal’tsit and Operator Rose

 Archive File 4

Increase Trust to 200.

Rose’s current weapon is a broadsword that has a shift setting inside of it. Made using materials that no longer need to be replaced after every fight, the weapon has a smaller blade that helps channel her flame arts better. However, at higher heats, the material can warp and change, so she tends to focus on firing flames like how Lappland attacks at range to keep the weapon from taking too much heat. The broadsword section itself is melted in some areas, and Rose has designed it to seem more like a mix of a cleaver and a sword. Her reasoning for the shape was only,

“It reminds me of a friend I worked with once. In their memory.”

 Promotion Record

Upgrade to Elite LV2.

Ghost… Do you think they’re proud of me? I know you can’t talk back to me, just chime when my body is shit, but… I wonder if they’re proud.

Dad and the gang. They picked me up, and trained me up, and then we lost them all. Innocent lives because that fucker decided to… To do that shit! Turn on everyone because he could, because he wanted. I won’t end up like Lunarre. I can’t just go looking for him either.

I’ll meet him out there. Maybe he’s joined Reunion, or maybe Dunwall or whatever it’s called. But I’ll avenge them. The gang, Dad, all of the people from that village.

Hmm? Time already? Geez, thinking really does focus time doesn’t it?

 Rarity: ★★★★★★

Archetype: Lord

Tags: DPS, Crowd Control

Traits: Can launch Ranged Attacks that deal 80% of normal ATK

Talent 1: Single Flame

-When no allies are in the 8 surrounding tiles, gains +10 ASPD

Talent 2: Solar Dragon

-When skill is in use, increases damage by 50% and deals Burn DoT, but lowers HP by 50 per second

 All at M3.

Skill 1: ATK Up Σ

-Increases attack by 100%

SP Cost: 30 (Automatic Recovery) (Manual) Duration: 30s

 Skill 2: Blazing Sword

-Increases Range, and removes damage reduction for ranged attack during skill. Reduces Defense by 20% but increases attack by 30%

SP Cost: 15 (Offensive Recovery) (Manual) Duration: 15 Seconds

Skill 3: Hunter of Dawn

-Decreases Range, but increases attack by 150%, deals Arts Damage. Defense -20% Max HP     -30%

SP Cost: 90 (Automatic Recovery) (Manual) Duration: 30s

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Hold My Phone

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Rhysand

Rating: PG-11/T- (v seductive flirting)

Original Idea: Modern!AU (kinda sorta not really)

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one is so ridiculous. It’s basically a “Everything is Pretty Much the Same but They Have Phones” AU, not really a modern AU because I figured this would be how Rhys would handle having a phone with the High Lord act, lol

^^^^^

My phone buzzed in my pocket. In a meeting with some Autumn Court emissaries. I’m bored. Entertain me? Rhys’ text said.

Why are you texting me? Just use the mating bond, I texted back.

Yeah but I want these idiots to *know* that I’m bored of them and can’t be bothered to give them my attention.

Playing games with them?

Always.

Exactly how do you propose I entertain you?

It took his answer a few minutes to arrive. I wondered if it was because he was thinking about the wickedest, most flirtatious thing to say or something came up in the meeting that he did actually have to give his attention to.

What are you wearing right now? I shouldn’t have been surprised that was his reply.

My purple outfit. The dark purple one with the stars embroidered into it.

I’m debating asking you to send me a picture of you in it or asking you to take it off and send me a picture of *that*

I am not sending you any pictures while you’re in a meeting. I hadn’t replied to a text that quickly in a while.

His reply came quickly too, Send it down the mating bond then. No records ;)

I rolled my eyes and got to my feet. Up in our room, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, stared at myself while lowering my mental shield, shot the image I was looking at—fully clothed—down the bond, and then slammed my shields back into place.

It took seconds for an answering image of Rhys licking his lips with a feral gleam in his eyes to bump into my shield. I rolled my eyes. My phone buzzed. Delicious. As always, darling.

Happy?

Deliriously.

Go back to your meeting, you flirt. I’ll see you later.

But I’m still bored.

Don’t be a baby. I have a meeting in 30 minutes I have to get ready for with the governor of the Palace of Threads and Jewels.

What are you meeting with the governor for?

I don’t think it’s any big deal. Probably just going over some requests from patrons who have gathered together a bunch of things rather than hauling themselves up 10,000 stairs to the House.

Good luck.

You too. I set my phone down on my vanity. I hated getting rid of the loose pants and sleeves but I knew for a meeting like this that I’d need a gown.

I sent Rhys mental images of every gown I tried on before selecting one, and every hairstyle I thought of doing, asking his opinion and ultimately ignoring it when he seductively told me he liked the most revealing dress with my hair unbound. I definitely called him a name I had no plans on apologizing for before replacing my shields.

I ended up going with a modest midnight blue gown glittering with silver threads that would be appropriately formal, but not so formal it felt like an occasion. Instead of a tiara or crown or diadem I kept my hair out of my face with a comb that was made of black metal and studded with diamond dust to look like the night sky. Crescent moon-shaped sapphire taking up most of the space in the middle.

Nuala and Cerridwen approved of my choices and I shooed myself out to go see the governor.

—

I collapsed on the bed after leaving my dress abandoned on the floor. The meeting was exactly what I thought it would be and after all the requests I was tired. I genuinely cared about my people but putting forth the mental strain of trying to figure out how to fix so many problems at once I started having to pretend to be chipper.

I hadn’t realized I dozed off until a weight falling onto the bed beside me woke me up.

Rhys fell in such a way that he could sprawl his wings above me, taking up a good portion of the bed. He was in casual clothing—silver-buttoned black shirt with the top button undone to let his tattoos peek out, black pants, low black boots—but I knew him better than to think he’d gone to the meeting in them. As he fell, he sighed. “That was tedious,” he remarked, setting a hand on the top of my head and scratching my hair. His fingers brushed my comb and he stopped.

“Tell me about it,” I grumbled.

He sat up to lean over me. He gave me a long, slow kiss as he removed the comb from my hair. “You didn’t wear the dress I chose,” he teased.

“I asked your opinion, not to choose for me,” I countered. “Besides, I doubt you’d even want another male to look at me in a dress like that.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded playfully. He kissed the hollow behind my ear. “You can model it for me later.”

“Flirt,” I accused.

“Spoilsport,” he retorted.

His phone started ringing in his pocket. I recognized the personalized tone. He only personalized a few. Azriel’s, Cassian’s, Mor’s, Amren’s, and mine.

Heaving another sigh, he extracted the phone from his pocket. “What do you want, Cassian?” There was no bite at all to the words, just resigned fatigue. He listened to words I couldn’t quite make out as he fidgeted with my comb in his other hand. He rolled his eyes. “That can wait. I’ll squeeze it in tomorrow, okay?”

More babbling from Cassian’s end of the call. I thought I caught snatches of Azriel’s voice too.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Bye.” He hung up, but I could still hear them talking as he ended the call. “Can never get one hour of peace with those two,” he muttered, silencing his phone.

He tossed it somewhere behind him and I heard it thunk on the rug.

“For tonight, darling, I have some much more entertaining events scheduled.” He bent over me and pressed another kiss to my lips. I kissed him back enthusiastically, reaching up to brush my fingers into his hair. He relaxed slightly, the weight of his head growing against mine as his neck tension softened.

“Let me silence my phone,” I said.

He waved a hand vaguely over his shoulder. “Done,” he said.

I smiled. “Bath before or after?”

“Hmm… after.”

“Fine with me.”

—

Both of our phones vibrating wildly on the end tables of our bed woke us the next morning. I jolted so hard I bonked my head on Rhys’ wing bone where he’d draped it over me as we slept, as he often did.

I reached out for my phone. There was no caller ID and the combination wasn’t one I recognized. That happened all the time. I answered anyway, assuming it was a matter of state, as usual. “Hello?”

“High Lady?” The voice was small and trembling. Not young, but frightened.

“Yes?”

“There’s something in the harbor.”

Before I could ask for more details, the caller hung up.

Rhys answered his phone much more lazily than I had. “This is Rhys,” he said. He never used his full given name to answer the phone. High Lord Tamlin, his enemy, could be calling and he’d still use Rhys.

He bolted up in bed so abruptly, his wing bone hit me in the back of the head. Thankfully the talon missed me. We both winced at the pain as he mouthed, Sorry, and leapt out of bed to get dressed. I figured I’d probably need to go investigate the harbor so I got up too and found a pair of pants, shirt, and overcoat. Socks and boots followed before I wound my hair into a bun so I wouldn’t have to braid it yet.

Rhys hung up. “Was your call about the harbor too?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Though, whoever it was didn’t say much.”

“Same here. Ready?”

I put the same comb I’d been wearing the day before into the top of my bun so I had some sort of ornamentation on. “Ready.”

He grabbed me around the shoulders and winnowed us out of the house.

We reappeared on the docks.

A dark shape was moving around under the surface of the water. I grabbed the railing and peered over it. “Too fluid to be a whale,” I said, noticing a small gathered crowd taking pictures on their phones, some recording videos.

Rhys’ hand settled on top of mine. It’s moving like a serpent, he said down our bond.

My grip on the railing halted. A serpent? Now? Like—like a sea serpent?

He didn’t reply. His dark eyes following where the head’s shape appeared to be.

“Hold onto this for me,” he said, pulling out his phone and holding it out. I took it out of habit, barely noticing his wings extending.

“Wait—Rhys—don’t—!” Too late. He used a powerful launch from his wings to get him over the railing before plunging into the water. As he dropped, I saw his clothes change from the casual dark shirt and pants to his fighting leathers. I wasn’t even sure any of the faeries around us noticed the change. A few of them yelped as his splash sprayed into the air.

I clung to the railing, staring into the depths.

“Rhysand…” I complained. “Stop being so reckless.”

I heard that, he teased.

I meant for you to, I retorted.

Wanna see?

I’m holding your phone. I’m not getting in that water.

You know that’s not what I meant.

I sent the sound of my sigh down the bond and felt his chuckle in return. Fine.

A crack opened in his mental shield. I slid into it, keeping a tether to get me out whenever I wanted if I got freaked out. My eyes glazed over as I started looking through his.

The harbor water was relatively clear, but a bit blurry. I—no, Rhys—flexed his magic to clear up his vision. My—his—hair drifted in front of his eyes a bit.

A large, deep red sea serpent twined around ahead, barely visible through the murk. Large fins were tucked against its sides.

Wings? I asked Rhys.

Yes. For jumping out of the water and snatching sailors from their ships. Among other things, he replied. They usually dwell in the depths. Wonder what it’s doing here.

I didn’t reply as he swam closer. Inside his mind, I could feel him dismiss his wings to reduce drag. Feel the strength in his shoulders as he stroked forward. In his mind, I had no private thoughts, so I knew he felt my anxiety. My fear for his safety. I felt him send a wave of calm through himself. He wasn’t nervous at all—for whatever reason.

The serpent caught sight of him. My breath hitched, but Rhys didn’t even flinch. Gold eyes bored into him, fangs revealed in something of a snarl.

Sorry, love, Rhys thought, I need to speak to it mind to mind, and don’t want you here for it. Too hard to concentrate on two minds at once.

Fine with me, I replied.

He shoved me out of his mind.

I shook my head, blinking, as my consciousness returned to my own body. My hands were so tight on the railing that my knuckles were white.

Something tugged on my tunic. I turned.

A small faerie child with violet skin and long silver hair was standing beside me, looking up at me. “Are you alright, High Lady?” Innocence and genuine concern were in its voice. I knelt to be on the same eye level as the child, my hands resting on the phone in either of my pants pockets.

“Yes. Yes, I’m alright. Just concerned for Rhys.”

The child looked into the harbor. “Mama says the High Lord is very powerful. He’ll be okay.”

I smiled at the child. “Yes. Yes he will.” I reached into the pocket of my tunic, pulling out one of the small candies I kept in there for when children stopped to talk to me—and Rhys usually. I offered it to the child. Everyone in Velaris knew their High Lord and Lady kept candy for children on them, so the child accepted without hesitation. They took off the wax paper wrapper and stuck the candy in their mouth before running back to their parents.

Rhys appeared on the dock behind me, dripping wet. “What’d I miss?” he asked.

I jumped to my feet and whirled around. “You okay?”

“Fine. I convinced it to leave.” He nodded toward the dark shape slithering out of the harbor now. “It was actually lost, I think. I managed to give it directions.”

I chuckled. “Never a boring day in Velaris.”

He joined my chuckle. “Not at all. Cassian’s gonna get a kick—” He swore. “I forgot. Cassian needed my help. You still have my phone?”

As I pulled it out of my pocket, he waved a hand to dry off.

He plunked in Cassian’s combination. “Hey, it’s me. I’m on my way.” He reached out a hand for me. I took it. Dark wind whipped around us as we winnowed away.

[nightwingmyboi]

Bruce firing Dick vs. Dick firing Tim

Soooo, I have seen a lot of people comparing the way that Bruce replaced Dick with Jason versus the way that Dick replaced Tim with Damian. (This happened some on my Batfam Replacement Montage post [x], which is what first brought it to my attention.) For some reason, a lot of people come out of this comparison thinking that Dick was not only just as bad and insensitive as Bruce (if they even think Bruce was in the wrong at all that is) but even that Dick is somehow worse. This legitimately confused the heck out of me. I don’t know if people are reading the same comics as me (though honestly with all the retcons and nonsense going on maybe we aren’t reading the same comics), so I’m just going to break each replacement down for you here and maybe you’ll see where I’m coming from when I think that is completely out of left field. 

Let’s start with Bruce. These panels have Dick (as Nightwing) recounting how things between him and Bruce went down (I’ve rewritten the text just below the image if it is blurry): 

Batman #416 

So while I was still laid up in bed, you dropped the bad news on me. No ifs, ands, or buts...I wasn’t to play Robin anymore. You couldn’t continue to assume the responsibility for a child fighting crime. For six years you trained me to be a crimefighter, then denied me that role. Of course, you assured me that it was for my own good. I lay there with a bandaged shoulder and my life in ruins. You smiled. Kicked a great big hole in my life, then walked out of the room. 

Following an encounter with the Joker, Dick is shot in the shoulder and nearly dies. Instead of comforting Dick, Bruce decides to follow up this traumatic event by firing Dick from Robin immediately. Bruce calls Dick a child, disregarding all the time Dick spent training to become Robin and Dick’s own agency, and basically attempts to kick him out of crimefighting all together. This may not be clear because of the image quality, but Dick literally starts crying in that last panel. But it doesn’t stop there: 

I don’t see what option I had, other than to split. Alfred tried to talk me out of it. It was Alfred who forced money on me so I’d have something to live on. You couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye. 

Despite his concern for Dick being the motivating factor behind the firing, Bruce doesn’t even seem to be aware that Dick is leaving, and so Alfred is the one that tries to convince Dick to stay in Bruce’s stead. And where is Bruce during all this you may ask??

Sorry, he was busy working on a case at the time. And people wonder why Dick didn’t realize Bruce was doing this out of concern rather than distrust of his capabilities. Anyway, Dick leaves, eventually joins the Titans, and becomes Nightwing. Eighteen whole months pass--a freaking year and a half--and not once does Bruce try to get in touch with Dick to sort things out. Then, Dick finds out about his replacement in the newspaper: 

Bruce fired Dick because he didn’t want a child sidekick. Then he goes out and gets a freaking child sidekick, and, even better, makes him Robin. Robin isn’t just a costume to Dick. In many comics, Dick refers to the Robin role as meaning family, and that’s because Dick specifically crafted Robin as a way to remember his parents. 

Robin Annual #4 and The Titans #16

It doesn’t get much more personal than using your dead mother’s nickname for you and your family’s colors (which across comics are pretty consistently some combo of yellow/green/red) as your hero persona. And Bruce, despite knowing the origins of the costume, felt like he could do whatever he wanted with it. And he didn’t even have the decency to be upfront about it. You can see why this drives me crazy. He spends the rest of the issue beating around the bush and not telling Dick why he adopted Jason and made him Robin, and, in the end, he once again kicks Dick out of the house. Nice parenting Bruce. 

Now with Dick. I’ve seen some people accuse Dick of not talking to Tim and just pulling the Robin mantle right out from under him, but that isn’t really what the comics show us: 

Red Robin #1

Dick tries to talk to Tim about it, and, unlike Bruce, he explicitly states his reasons for giving Damian Robin. He validates Tim, and tells him that they are equals. Even when Tim lashes out, Dick makes it clear that he still wants Tim around, even if it is not as Robin. And, once again unlike Bruce, Dick doesn’t proceed to just abandon Tim when things don’t go his way. He sends Tim’s friends his way and when that doesn’t work, Dick goes to find Tim and try to talk things out in person: 

Red Robin #4

So why doesn’t Tim just tell Dick his theory? That’s because, as much as people apparently want to believe that Tim had the whole thing figured out and it was everyone else’s fault that no one was listening, Tim had no actual evidence whatsoever that Bruce was actually alive. He was kind of in denial about Bruce’s death and all he had was a weak hunch.

Tim rides off without giving any explanations, leaving Dick to deal with all the fallout of Bruce’s “death” by himself. Dick had to abandon everything that he built (Nightwing, his various superhero teams, etc.) in order to take up Bruce’s identity. He had to deal with being Batman, running Wayne Enterprises, and raising Damian (a murderous brat who spent literally all his time insulting and undermining him in those early days), all while managing his own grief. And he had no one but Alfred for support. So maybe he didn’t handle Tim as well as he could have (I don’t really know what he could have done differently but hey if you want to let me know feel free), but I honestly think that under the circumstances he tried his freaking best, which is more than Bruce did for him. And when Tim returns, he immediately expects Dick to put everything on hold to help him, once again without explanation, and what does Dick do?

Red Robin #11

He trusts Tim and puts everything on hold to help Tim out. Even though Tim pretty much left him high and dry when he needed help the most. So yeah, I don’t see where people are coming from when they act like Dick somehow singlehandedly destroyed his relationship with Tim. I don’t understand how Tim could possibly trust Jason (ie the person who very nearly murdered him) more than he trusts Dick (ie the person who mentored and acted as a confidant to him for literal years) in such a short span of time.

In my opinion, Bruce and Dick are not even remotely similar in their actions here. I don’t understand how people who can so readily excuse Bruce for his harsh treatment not be the least bit willing to give Dick some slack when his situation was sooo bad and he tried so hard. 

[need-a-fugue]

Pancakes

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You finally got him to stay the night, and there’s no better sight to wake to in the morning. But what comes next for you and Bucky?

Warnings A bit of sexy time, bit of sweetness, bit of angst...

“You’re so warm,” you mutter sleepily, swiping your nose along his naked collarbone as you shift and curl deeper into him. “S’nice.”

He snakes his right arm around you, beneath you, pulling you close as he rolls slowly onto his back. The smallest chuckle builds in his chest, the vibration tickling your temple as you settle your head atop him. A smile creeps over your face when the soft, breathy titter leaves his lips and floats to your ear. “Glad you like it,” he deadpans, voice sounding almost as sleep-logged as your own.

“Mm hmm,” you hum, tilting your head and popping a few lazy kisses down the length of his breastbone. “For now, at least. Come summer it might be unbearable.”

Another lazy chortle, the quiver it sets off in his chest beneath you quickly becoming your most favorite feeling in all the world, outweighed only perhaps by the deep rumble that builds within his ribcage once infused with his voice. “So you’re just gonna toss me aside like some cheap pair of slacks once summer hits?”

You pull yourself up onto your elbow, tilting your face so that the tip of your chin rolls to the center of his naked chest. “A cheap pair of slacks?” you question, nose wrinkling in amusement. “How old are you again?”

He smiles crookedly as he brings his flesh fingers up to brush away your hair, idly fingering a thick chunk, pinching it between his pads as he places it tenderly behind your ear. “Too damn old for you, sweetheart,” he muses as his bright blue eyes stare down at you, the stream of early morning sunlight peaking in through the curtains turning them a wonderous cerulean.

“Funny story,” you say with a lilt, single brow cocking high. “I’ve actually never dated anyone my own age.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, intrigue pulling at his features.

You shrug – “Guess I’ve got a type.” – and settle back into him so as to feel his laughter on your cheek once again. Slowly, the rumble fades and gets replaced by the firm and steady thump-thump, thump-thump that had lulled you to sleep the night before. Your eyes drift closed, breaths spilling in a slow, even rhythm as your entire body relaxes in his hold… relaxes in a way you’ve honestly never experienced before. Relaxation, tranquility, calm… these things have always been foreign concepts, always been things you’ve had to either deny or force in an artificial manner.

Yet somehow this giant man beside you has cracked the code. Somehow, in just the few short months you’ve been… whatever you are – dating, fucking, together – you’ve finally begun to understand what it means to relax. Here, in his hold, safely tucked into the warm sanctuary of him, surrounded by his own tranquil, sleep-stained energy, you can hear the lazy rhythm of your own deep breaths echoing in your ears. You can feel the newfound weight of your limbs, resting heavily atop the firm mattress, tugging your shoulders low and letting your vertebrae, for once, languidly stretch apart.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” he asks, his deep tenor pulling you from your reverie, causing your eyes to lazily blink open. His fingers continue to run lightly through your hair, tugging a bit every now and then as he catches a tangle.

You let out a small hum, turning your face to once again press your lips into the warm flesh of his chest. You gather just enough strength to flop those heavy, too relaxed limbs – right arm and right leg – over the top of him, winding around him, curling yourself closer as he lets out a soft oomph and chuckle. “I like when you call me that,” you say with a yawn. “Never thought I would. But from you… I like it.”

“Baby?” he asks, stiffening only slightly when you begin trailing your fingertips along the plates of his metal arm. It still bothers him when you touch it. Still scares him. But every time you lay that splendidly gentle touch atop it – gentle, like no one else who ever touched that arm had been – every time you idly tap out a rhythm on the metal – casual, like no other contact had ever been – every time you caress it, lovingly, longingly, like it’s somehow beautiful… every time, he feels himself grow more at ease with the contact.

“Mm hmm,” you reply, a barely there utterance as you burrow closer.

He tugs your body a little higher, top of your head tucking just beneath his chin. “Baby,” he mutters into your hair, the word – the name, your name – pulling from him in a single, raw breath. He kisses your head, breath hot on your scalp. “Baby,” he drones again. And again, “Baby…” each time deeper and more haunting than the last. He brings his metal fingers down to the leg you have draped over him, down to your silky smooth calf. Then up, up, up, skimming in an airy touch all the way to your thigh. “Baby,” he whispers in your ear just as the cool, metallic digits slide slowly beneath the sheet and leave a subtle press at the small bruise he’d pinched into your ass just the night before.

You wriggle in his grasp, giggle as the delightful tickle traces back down your leg again. His fingers hit a uniquely sensitive spot just atop your Achilles and it causes a bark of laughter to shoot out… and your heel to rocket back and collide with his knee.

“Ow!” bellows out of him amid a deep and hearty laugh. “Damn…”

“Sorry,” you snicker, reaching down to rub at the joint. “Sorry, baby,” you breath out as your palm cups his knee, fingertips lightly grazing the skin surrounding it.

“Oh, so now I’m baby?” he asks with a lilt.

You prop your chin on his chest again, angle yourself to be able to look into those sparkling eyes. “You don’t like it… baby?” you inquire as your hand drops off to the side and rakes high along his inner thigh.

“Nah,” he intones, jerking a bit beneath you and letting out an almost uncomfortable sounding grunt as you brush against him, fingers winding around his now hardening length. “I… I like it.”

You stroke him slowly, gently, your touch both delicate and pressing. “I like this too,” you murmur softly as a lingering, open-mouthed kiss gets pressed to the very center of his neck.

“Yeah?” he bites out, the bob of his Adam’s apple causing your lips to curl into a crooked smile.

“Mm hmm,” hums out into his skin, pulsing to his core. You shift a bit and crawl atop him, press yourself to his strong chest, feel his heart beat – wildly now, the smooth steadiness gone – into your own ribcage. “And I like having you here in the morning. Here in my bed.”

He runs a hand through your hair, at first just so he can take in your face. But once he locks onto those beautiful eyes, hooded with desire… lust blown, his fingers tangle in and tug, sharply pulling you up to meet his lips. With his metal hand, he cups your ass, the touch there gentler, more timid than he tenders with his right, more tame than the entire rest of his body can muster. “Like waking up to this?” he asks once your lips part, each word punctuated by a short stutter and gasp.

You smile, wide and cunning and dangerous, and for a moment he thinks that he can die a happy man, could let go right now with your fingers curled about him, your weight atop him, your flushed face beaming down at him.

“Uh huh,” you breathe out, readying yourself beneath the sheets, sidling your hips closer to his, pulling up so as to effortlessly slide back down and guide him in. Into place. Into the only place he ever wants to be. “Don’t ever wanna wake up any different.”

“Jesus, doll,” he moans, jerking up to recapture your lips, tracing the warmth of you with his tongue, melting into your touch as you reach up and weave your fingers into his hair, scrape lightly – then harshly – at his scalp as your hips move in slow, subtle circles. “Fuck.”

You pull back, just a bit, just enough to be able to look down and see his red, raw lips, slitted eyes filled with… want. Need. You stare down at him for a long moment, utterly certain that the same unbearable need is painted across your own face as well. A low grunt pulls from his chest as he thrusts into you, hits a spot that makes you gasp, makes you want to weep. Makes you want to utter the words you’d long ago promised yourself to never tell another living soul.

I want you. I need you. I love you.

But the words still in your throat, refusing to come out. And you’re grateful for it. In that moment, you’re so damn grateful.

“Baby,” he mutters blankly, giving your hip a squeeze. A small hit of concerned energy sloughs off of him and you glance down to find a look emanating from his eyes that matches. His brows tug in a curious, worried furrow, the image of him a bit blurry around the edges. And you realize all at once that you’re crying. He lifts his hand to wipe away a tear, frown tugging at his swollen lips. “Sweetheart,” he metes out, only barely slowing his pace. “What?”

You blink out a few more tears and pull his face into a hazy focus before craning your head towards his hand – towards that tender, loving touch – and pressing a long, sloppy kiss to his burning palm. I love you, you think, the only reasonable answer to his question. God, I love you.

That is the what. It’s the only what there could possibly ever be. You’re as sure of that as you are of anything.

But still, those words remain buried deep inside, that admission you swore never again to give barricading itself inside your chest, coiling itself around your rapidly beating heart. Instead, a cover, equal parts authentic and utterly deceitful. “Pancakes,” you breathe out in a sharp gasp as your hands move to his shoulders, slide to his chest, fingernails digging halfmoon bruises into his flesh. “I want pancakes.”

He stills beneath you for a fleeting moment, his frown swiftly lifting into a smile so wide that it sets the corners of his dazzling eyes to crinkle. A thick laugh chokes out of him and your palms slide to the center of his chest to pull the delightful tremor in. He thrusts again, metal hand rising to cover your own small hands as they rest just above his heart.

“Yeah, doll,” he bites out, expression slipping into a coy grin as he feels you tighten – slick and sweet and vice-like – around him. “I’ll make you all the pancakes you want.”

[eleanore-delphinium]

[DamiRae AU] I Remember You

NOTE: Post- JLDAW (New)Timeline

Part 1: DamiRae Week 2020: Bound Together

Part 2: DamiRae Week 2020: Soulmates

Part 3: DamiRae Week 2020: Marriage

Part 4: I remember you (You Are Here)

 I Remember You

 Damian Wayne was looking at Jump City from the rooftop of the Titan’s tower. He was in his casual wear all in black. In fact, it was the most casual outfit he actually wore, a black hood with black fitted slacks and black dress shoes.

Raven had just arrived at the rooftop; she was wearing her hero uniform, her hood down. She walks to Damian quietly, whose back was facing Raven. There was a bulge within her upper robes.

It was odd seeing Damian Wayne in such casual attire. Raven couldn’t help but feel a tug at her heart. After all, he had said that he never took off his robin uniform unless it was to shower. But here he is, in the most casual attire she had ever seen him in. And it felt wrong.

She did not know why she felt it was wrong and it makes her furrow her brows and freeze for a moment. His back facing her made her think of thoughts that she had been trying to banish for some time now.

And somehow Raven was able to continue to go to Damian, the steps she took was an unconscious effort on her part. For the duration she felt as though she was walking on a tightrope.

“Hey.” She absent-mindedly called out to him. For a second, she was surprised at the sound of her voice, which breaks the chaos in Raven’s head. Damian turns to look at Raven with a quirked-up brow noticing the odd bulge in her robes.

“Ta-da!” She says with a smile as she opens up her robe for him to see the black puppy in her arm with a red collar. She had forgotten the thoughts that was replaying in her mind prior.

Damian looks at the puppy the already quirked-up brow seeming to be even more emphasized.

“It’s for you if you haven’t figured it out yet.” Raven says with a teasing smile. And he rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Of course, it is for me.” Damian stares at the pup with a cold gaze but as the seconds tick his facial expression softened. He reaches out for the puppy.

“You haven’t named him, have you?” He asks Raven as he glances up at her, and she shakes her head in response.

“But I don’t know why he kind of looks like a—” Raven says as a gust of wind suddenly blows, making her robes rustle against itself as Damian took the puppy off of her hands. With her hands freed she pinned her hair up against her head as she closes her eyes.

“Titus.” They both had said together, Raven saying it the loudest and Damian whispering it under his breath as though in a trance. The puppy fully in his hands. And it felt right.

“Yes, I think that is a rather befitting name.” Damian replied as the sudden gust of wind softened and disappeared. Raven glances at him in confusion, she could have sworn he had said something.

And for a moment Raven had thought that another image had overlapped over Damian. Her face twists in confusion, to which Damian glances at her in worry. It was an image very much similar to how Damian was standing now. However, the face was blurry and she felt as though the context was slightly different from the present.

Raven felt his worry and before he could voice it out, she simply says. “Dust had gotten into my eye.” As she rubs her right eye for show. And the image that she could almost clearly see was forgotten, as though she never saw it. Well, because to Raven she had never seen it, and if she does recall she had such an image in her head, it would not be as clear or lack thereof, as that moment Damian picked up the puppy.

“Thank you.” Damian absentmindedly say, despite being an unconscious thanks it was very sincere. And even though he was not fully aware, the words rolled off so seamlessly when directed at Raven.

Damian looks back at Jump City when he had realized what he had just said. And Raven smiles at his embarrassment as she looks at Jump City too.

Who would have known that he and her would become relatively close friends? No one could have guessed it, though admittedly the probability was high.

Raven closes her eyes as she took in a deep breath and another gust of wind hits the pair. And she felt a familiar warmth crept up her chest and enveloped her. She felt love.

She does not notice the careful observing glance from a pair of green eyes beside her. As the warmth in her chest translated into a wistful smile. And the smile to Damian translated as a frown with furrowed brows.

                                                                                         ~.~.~.~.~

They had gotten very close—Damian and Raven. And often than not they would hang out together. And one of those places—one of their favorite places—was the Titan’s rooftop.

The sun was still high up and Raven who was in her casual wear, had been on the rooftop for over half an hour now. She was leaning on the balustrade with her arms resting on top, as she stares out at the open water beneath longingly. She was still lost in her thoughts when Damian stood beside her. He observes her for a moment and looked out at the water consumed with his own thoughts too.

When almost fifteen minutes had passed, that was when she had noticed that the space beside her was occupied. A plethora of emotions coming out from the same spot but she had not registered it and she turns her head to see Damian. He notices her movement and looks at her.

Raven’s stiffened expression softened gently with the realization of the familiar features. And her heart tugged. A small grief looking smile was on her lips as she looked away from Damian and into the water below again.

“You must have noticed.” She said softly as her brows furrowed and softened with a sigh. Damian remains quiet and let her talk and clarify herself. She turns around to lean against the balustrade with her elbows resting on the fence.

“I had a crush on Dick.” She ruffles her hair with her right hand. Saying it aloud for the first time, she found that the words were so foreign in her mouth. But she does not notice the brief moment where Damian’s brows furrowed and his lips formed into a frown, as she was facing the opposite direction from Damian’s view. As she puts her right elbow back on the balustrade, she turns to face Damian.

“For the longest time I had liked him.” She said again, the tone in her voice was soft and rather resigned. He tilts his head to her direction, his emotions masked.

“I liked him. I mean I still do. But—I think—well before you ask. Kori doesn’t know, and when the two dated… I understood. Seeing Dick and Kori together—that how I liked him wasn’t as romantic as I had thought. I think—I knew—that I liked him for the wrong reasons.” Damian waits patiently as she sorted her thoughts and the next words she wanted to say. His face wearing the schooled expression of indifference.

“But then I met Tim—and it invoked the same feelings I had for Dick. And for a moment—I had thought that I had liked him romantically too, but—I was wrong again.” She gave an empty smile as she recalled her emotions when faced with Tim or Dick. “Their black hair—Azar. Their black hair and they’re back facing me always stirs emotions from within me that I don’t really understand where it came from. It felt right and wrong. Especially when I see them or pictures of them in their Robin uniform. But the thing is—when I see their eyes—a feeling of overwhelming mismatch hits me. And the crush I thought I have would subside and becomes replaced with dissatisfaction.” Damian turns to face Raven and was startled to see her troubled look. He had words he wanted to tell her but were lost when he saw her expression. Her eyes weren’t even looking at him.

“I can’t fall in love with every Robin that comes my way—” Her eyes flickers at Damian for a moment, a small goofy smile directed at him and it disappears quickly. “Or every boy with black hair.” She shakes her head with an empty smile on her lips as she turns her body again to face the waters. “When I see someone with black hair—I feel a knot in my chest.” She looks out at the water with a darkened gaze.

“It feels like I’m supposed to remember someone—supposed to be looking for someone.” She sighs. “You see Damian, I don’t know when it had started but I have been having dreams. These dreams for as long as I could remember—but the thing is-- I don’t remember them. I do know that these dreams caused me to have such a strong longing for this stranger.” Raven reaches out for the necklace against her collar bone. “I love him. All I know is that I love him. And that the stranger is a male without a doubt-- a male. And I vaguely—so very vaguely recall black hair. And warmth—" And a genuine smile is on her lips. “And a certain warmth against my lips.” She shakes her head as she softly chuckled and put her arm back on the fence.

“You know I tried looking for him—but how could I when I don’t even have a solid clue. And I kind of hoped that maybe one day he’d just appear and I would recognize him instantly. But that is becoming rather unlikely.” And she pauses to stare at the very silent Damian, his brows looked as though it wanted to meet one another but he was fighting the urge to. At his schooled expression of indifference. She knew that he wanted her to finish and vent everything out, so she continues.

“Which leads me to my current decision.” To this Raven’s gaze met Damian’s green eyes. His intention was just to glance at her but her gaze caught his completely. “I want to let him go.” There was clarity in Raven’s violet eyes and turmoil in the set of green eyes looking at her. She looks away from him and stuck her hand out the fence and observed it as she turned it so that her palm faced the sky.

“I will let him go. It’s not like I will know him when we meet. And if we do meet—well-- I honestly don’t want to keep falling in love with every Robin.” She says every Robin rather mockingly with a roll of her eyes as a joke. “But seriously-- I don’t want to keep looking at someone as if ‘hey this might be him’. It’s just dumb.” She adds as she shakes her head. And there was just silence. She allowed Damian to have a moment to let what she had shared sink in. And minutes passed, and Raven refuses to glance at him.

“I actually decided to strengthen my empathetic shield. So, I can’t actually feel how your feeling, and all I can do is make guesses of what you feel on your expression. Unless the emotion is really, really strong to which I would be able to identify briefly what it is your feeling.” She added as nonchalantly as she could, however she was nervous at how he would view her due to this particular information. “I want to be able to feel—love—or a crush because I actually like someone—not because I am chasing a shadow.”

And because of her strengthened empathetic shield, she missed to feel the turmoil in Damian. The words he could not put together and could not correlate with his inner conflict. And her adamant refusal to glance his way with everything that she had just revealed. She failed to see or feel Damian’s true response to her words. His inner response that words could not explain.

Was he supposed to comfort her?

With a sigh he finally says, “So, is this a confession?” his tone soft to curb his inner self. And she turns too look at him, a wary expression on her face at first but as she met his gentle eyes devoid of any form of conflict, her face warms up with a soft smile.

“Yeah, I can’t really tell Kori that I had liked her boyfriend. But I guess telling you that I liked your brothers is just as odd—but you’re the closest friend I have. And finally letting out all this information that I have been holding in—makes me feel so much better.” And Damian nods truly understanding how relieving it must have felt.

“I am glad then, that you decided to confide in me. And that I have such a great person I can call a friend.” And Raven’s small smile grew bigger.

“Did Damian Wayne, just thanked me?” She teases and he quirks a brow at her ready to rebuke, but was unable to as Raven’s joyous laughter captures his attention and he found himself grinning.

 AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I have so many fanfiction plans for DamiRae.

(e.g. Fantasy(Maleficent inspired); Modern Angst; Crossover…)

And I will try to write them, but I have classes, it might take some time.

And I have arcs for this timeline to work on too, and another Fanfic I am currently writing.

Just take note of titles, because that should indicate the timeline.

Hope you enjoyed this teaser!

This timeline is named: Familiarity (also in my ao3 account under Eleanore_Delphinium)

In my ff.net account, in a DamiRae Collection for achieving Tumblr posts.

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 73 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 73 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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The Grandalor’s hailing drum called across the water between ships in Kurin’s characteristic hand, “Please don’t force us to harm you further!  Turn into the wind and slack sails.  Lower the fore sail and hold position with jibs and mizzen.  We will come to your aid if you do.”

Kotance stood still, shivering with rage and struggling with the concept of having lost — — — to the Grandalor.  He did nothing.  

A familiar voice began calling orders and getting the ship organized. Sailors jumped to obey, turning the Longin into the wind and slacking and lowering sails.  The injured were now being moved to the safety of the sickbay.  Expert lofters and riggers from the rope walk began to survey the extent of the damage and report on what needed doing.

Kotance’s rage and frustration now found a focus.  He hit Mord Halyn in the back of the head with the hilt of his long, serrated edge knife. Stunned, Mord fell to his knees and was struck again.  As Mord collapsed to the deck, Kotance reversed his knife for a killing stroke when he too was dropped by a blow from behind.  Second Officer Marrik, the replacement helmsman, had left his post and wielded a marlin spike like a mallet to the back of Kotance’s head.

Kotance awoke to the shock of cold seawater thrown into his face.  Trying to see the source of this affront brought blurry doubled images of a woman leaning over him and another few indistinct people behind her. Gathering his strength, Kotance finally brought the scene before him into focus.  Trying to get up brought home the realization that he was bound.

Turning to the woman in front of him, he cried out angrily, “Mistress Daeron!  What is the meaning of this outrage!  Why am I bound?” Turning his attention to the rest of the group he got a horrible suspicion.  “How did we get Kurin back?  Why are the fugitives Barad and his woman here and unbound?”

“Barad and Captain Tanlin are our guests for the time being,” said Mistress Daeron icily.  “They, along with Master Juris, are supervising our repairs.  The Grandalor is also rendering medical aid to the injured.  Kurin has come aboard to acquire facts from our crew and officers.  She has informed us that she will be staying on board the Grandalor until she can present their case before the Council’s representative.  It further appears that there have been illegal actions committed by this ship under your command.

“You have been relieved.  As there are no others on board who have a Masters Certificate, the ship is presently under the command of the Combined Council of Masters and Officers.”

The sun climbing up from its low point near the horizon found the Soaring Bird slashing through the waters of the Dragon Sea, driven north by straining canvas.  Her crew ate a light meal in preparation for action and went quietly to their battle stations.  They knew that they would have contact by mid-morning at the latest.

Sarfin watched in disbelief as the crew unlimbered and tested the catapults. Others went about the dangerous business of hanging and securing a submerged ram at the bow of the longer hull.  Huld directed everything quietly, without any excitement.  If anything, he seemed a little sad.

The high lookouts began to call “Hai!  Sail!  Two points starboard!” Soon their calls changed, “Ships!  Two, engaged close!”

Sarfin saw Sula expostulating with Huld, apparently urging attack, though he failed to make out her exact words.  He did hear Huld though, “Captain are now you.  Right are you that wrong much is.  For battle prepared are we.  Time now to wait for news is.”  To his crew he ordered, “Hold in readiness weapons.  Alert stay.”  A horn picked up his order and turned it into a call that resounded across the ship.

Crew men and women carefully safetied the loaded catapults and other devices and secured their racked ammunition.  Weapons were cocked, drawing cables remained attached to the cocking arms and to their winches.  The weapon crews remained at their posts, relaxed but ready.  This was clearly work that they had done before.

Now that Sarfin could see for himself the ships in question, there was no doubt that the Grandalor and the Longin were tied together.  The Longin’s mainsail could never get into the position that it was in unless her rigging was seriously damaged.  The damage became even more apparent as the Soaring Bird got closer to the drifting ships and reduced sail to the calls of horns.  She turned gently to bring the maximum amount of her deadly firepower into play in an instant. Crew folk calmly removed safeties and checked the arming and aiming of their weapons.

Hailing drums began to pound their talk across the waves.  As Sula heard the situation, she felt a shock of disbelief.  Her friend, Mord Halyn, relieved as Captain, was now injured and in sickbay.  There had been a battle but it was the Longin that attacked the Grandalor in an apparent act of piracy.  The Grandalor was now rendering aid to a defeated Longin.

Huld simply looked at Sula with a quizzically raised eyebrow and said, “Attack not now.  Information priceless is.  Lives saved, yes?”

Sula sighed and replied, “True, Honored One.  Let us join them and give assistance.”

Huld issued orders which were relayed by horn call about the ship. Weapons were unloaded and ammunition stowed.  Damage control crews began to prepare their equipment to assist the Longin.  Sarfin was relieved to see that this, too, was clearly work that they had done before.

Sula turned and said, “It looks like you have your work to do, now, Captain Sarfin.  I’m glad that I don’t have to sit in judgment on this mess.”

“I know what you mean, Captain Sula.  Still it should prove to be an interesting case,” Sarfin replied thoughtfully.  “I have to wonder just how the Grandalor managed to get permission to be here in the Dragon Sea.  The Great Sea Dragons don’t like being disturbed all that much.”

So silently that it almost went unnoticed by the lookouts, a huge dark, head rose up by the rail near to Sula.  It was black, covered with frills, spines and fins and had massive tentacles about the hugely fanged mouth.  Dark Iren regarded them with large, intelligent eyes for a moment before speaking.

“They asked for a safe refuge to assemble their case, Captain Sarfin.  We gave it to them.”

At first Sula could only gape.  Legend had come to life before her eyes. “You’re Dark Iren!” she managed to exclaim at last.

Tolerantly, the Dragon replied, “Of course I am.  You are Sula Corin Dark Dragon.  I have been wanting to meet you ever since you renamed the Sun’s Daughter.  According to your beliefs you risked much bad luck in doing so.  Yours remains the only ship on Sea that is named for one of us.”

Sula shrank a little at that.  “If it offends you, we can rename her.”

She was answered by a dragon’s grin, full of huge razor sharp fangs. “Don’t.  Given the circumstances and the belief system connected to it, I find it flattering.  Your conduct in combat and after is meritorious.  You have always rescued friend and foe alike when the battle is done.

“I wish that I did keep the Halls of Dead, beneath the sea.  I would give Davaros back to you if I could.  He was a good man.”

Sula shook herself and shut her eyes in pain at the mention of her husband’s name.  In a small voice, she said, “I never really believed the legend, yet I hunted half around the world hoping to find you so that I could ask.”  When she opened her eyes she found genuine concern and sympathy in the monstrous eyes that were looking back at her.

“That is very curious, Sula, because I came here to ask a favor of you.”

“What can I do for you?” Sula asked softly.

“Your help in sorting this all out according to human Laws, both Great and fleet, would be appreciated, Captain Sula.”

Past her awe, she replied, “Of course I will give assistance if Captain Sarfin requests it.”

The Great Sea Dragon responded, “Sula, I want you to do it. Please.  There are people involved who are unique on Sea, and they are important to the future of Sea as a place for people to live. Not to mention, my Orcas like some of them very much.”

“What do the Orcas have to do with this?” asked Sula curiously.

Dark Iren eyed her with consideration before answering, “Much.  Every ship on Sea has its attendant Orcas even if they are not seen.  They tell us all that happens on each ship.  They find some lives worthy of celebration and sing them.  I do not understand why they sing for one and not another.  It is sufficient that they understand their reasons.

“You humans have the Orcas to thank that you survived your first generations here on Sea.  They alerted us to your presence and let us know that your kind were dying out.  We were able to save your kind because of that timely information.  Now, something wholly new is happening.  We want it to go on.  

“The problem, put simply, is this, human Laws need to be observed for humans.  Some have been broken.  These matters need redress.  You have shown yourself to be capable and fair.  I trust you.”

“What is the wholly new thing that is happening?” Sula asked, curiosity piqued.

Dark Iren answered carefully, “Mecat gave Captain Tanlin a Dragon’s Gift but there was an accident.  The Sea Hawks Skye and Thunderhead got included in the Gift.  Major and unforeseen changes have resulted.  The ecological results of all of this need the evaluation that only time can bring.”

“I will help, then, though I believe that the best help that you could get would be the Honored One, Captain Huld.”

The Great Dragon meditated on what she said and then replied thoughtfully, “If the trial were to be over points of honor or ethics, I would ask him.  You are more alert to the core legal issues.  Assist Kurin if she asks it.  Be a friend.”

“That’s the one thing that she can’t do, if she’s to assist me,” Sarfin injected into the conversation.  “A judge cannot be a friend, however much he may wish to be one.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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[parkeraul]

the sweetest hello, the saddest goodbye | part 2

a/n: tshtsg is back by popular demand because some people wanted a closure and who am i to deny it? i wasn’t expecting so many feedbacks (specially on angst, i really suck at writing angst and this was so??? surprising???) & i’m so grateful for it all, it warms my heart so much. anyways, grab some tissues (extra tissues because i intend to earn more than tears from your eyes only, if u know what i mean) because this is gonna be a rollercoaster and let me know if you like it. by the way, wrap it before u tap it (yea bish u know what i’m talking ‘bout) — do what auntie ann says, not what auntie ann writes.

warnings: angst, drinking, swearing & smut. words: 8k [worth the wait i guess] recommendations: read part 1 to understand better.

Empty. This is how he was feeling. Up at the stage singing to a huge amount of people; alone at home with his thoughts messily written all over the papers — taking over every single hour of his day; among his crew on the backstage; regardless of the situation, he felt unfilled like everything he’s seeing is slowly turning black and white and dull. He noticed that this aching feeling was suffocating him in all the possible ways when he started letting everything pass by. He’s forgotten lyrics during the shows countless times, he’s forgotten to reply the messages popping up on his phone all the time, he’s forgotten even to eat properly sometimes. He’s forgotten himself somewhere lost but, worse than that, he’s forgotten about her. 

But moving on is definitely not the place where he’s at right now. 

He’s forgotten the little details, the ones that are printed on every page of his notebook so he can at least read about it and try to recover any memory, although all of this wasn’t as nearly as satisfying than remembering about those details vividly. Shawn came to the point where just having a slight piece of reminiscence would ease his stinging soul — the way her perfume and the scent of her hair mixed greatly together and used to get stuck on his clothes from the million times they used to hug and stay in there for a while, body—to—body as they appreciated the moment to keep quiet for a while, just enjoying the feeling of having their frames pressed against each other with a couple of caresses coming across his muscular back or a gentle head-rub right above the nape of her neck. The taste on her lips, incomparable and so captivating that he could keep his mouth on her for an eternity and write innumerable songs about it — every now and then he just rests his head against the closest surface and closes his eyes, searching for one of the times he had her splayed on his bed all to him, waiting for his red lips to love her body in that tempting way that only Shawn can because he takes his time to cover every inch with his mouth and hands over and over again until he earns desperation from her, an unstoppable desire to unravel underneath his body at the point she can’t control her shaking limbs. Her smile, her eyes, her sweet laugh and calming voice were all gone, replaced by the image of the tears streaming down her face when she last looked at him to walk away without promising to come back before he went insane. Insane might be right word to describe the state of his mind, he swears he’s nearly going crazy because it seems like it doesn’t matter what he tries to do, nothing’s going to complete him so perfectly like she does. Nothing.

The pub is loud and filled to the rafters, the strong beat of the music reverberating through the walls and the floor underneath his body that doesn’t sync with the rhythm. Everything’s slower, everything’s cloudy and meaningless but something made him think that a glass or two of whiskey would probably get him into it, consequently avoiding the annoying commentaries coming from his friends questioning ‘are you good?’ or ‘what’s gotten into you?’ and ‘are you still thinking about that?’.

Even if things aren’t the way he’d usually like — who is Shawn Mendes to negate a good party? — He’s trying his best to let this atmosphere hit him. Gradually, the song sounds nice, a drink leads to another and he tries to connect with the people around him dancing to the beat like the music has thrown a spell and everyone’s progressively giving in as he makes an effort to follow, eventually singing the songs he knows and loosening the tension on his body. Shawn feels comfortable to look people in the eyes, nodding towards the ones who knows him and smiling to the ones he’s recognizing from afar as he swallows his drink down his throat, not minding the burning sensation anymore. “’M gonna get another one. D’you want something?” He says closer to Brian’s ear, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. “Yep. Want you to slow down,” The redhead answers, handing him fifty bucks. “And some tequila shots, if you may.” Shawn laughs thinly, getting the money and pulling away from his friend to hide the money inside his wallet and fix his hair back, undoing a couple of buttons of his dark shirt. Finally that unavoidable effect of the alcohol. The hotness grazing his skin and turning it rosy, only able to be seen when perkier lights illuminated his frame in the middle of so many purple and red setlights shining through the crowd. He ignores what his best friend just said — it makes no sense to ask him to slow down and be funnier at the same time, he can’t perform both all at once — and makes his way to the bar with difficulty due to the many people blocking the way and the place going very brightened and then totally dark in a matter of seconds, increasing not only his confusion but also the dizziness upon his head. The journey to get their drinks is filled with hundreds of excuse me’s and mild touches, silently warning the people that he needs to move forwards and they’re on his way. Still tipsy, he manages to act kindly meanwhile his body submits to the laziness of his movements and leaves the sober-state behind somewhere among the public, approaching a chair in front of the counter step by step where he can sit down to wait for the drinks. “A glass of bourbon and... How many shots can you fit into fifty bucks?” He shouts to the barman, quickly pulling out his credit card. “Three shots, buddy.” The guy responds, typing on his screen to register the order. “Add eight more, please,” He could use some of these shots later, he thinks. “Credit card.” Shawn’s toying with the card, tapping it against the marble while the man before him is still giving away his request and setting the little machine in front of him. It’s all very fast and he doesn’t even listen to the barman after he removed his card and got his note. “What’s your table?” “Table 88,” He blinks rapidly, processing the things happening around him. “Thanks, man.”

It lasts almost three songs until he’s done with the glass he took five minutes after he ordered it, having the drink still at the bar and seeing the shots going to where Brian is standing along with the other guys. It’s almost inevitable to end up reserving himself at some point of the day, his brain asking for some time alone so he could think things again and progress from this looping of reliving his heartbreak that wouldn’t go away so soon. He wanted so bad to let her know that he’s entirely over that person from the damn song everyone’s made sure to remember him about in every interview, remember him how careless he was with the one person that actually matters the most to him. “Such a dick.” He thinks to himself and it happens literally everytime he’s on his own re-experiencing those bitter memories, it’s instant: a bad moment leads to a prompt chastise because he’s never going to forgive him for letting her escape through the spaces of his fingers for the exact reason that he had her on his hands, that’s something that she even dared to say sometimes shyly with her face hidden on his chest and he could never help but roll her over and kiss her face repeatedly, so happy to have someone who wore the feelings on the sleeve just like he does. They do fit together, but there was this huge pile of unsolved things standing in between and it was no one else’s job to disentangle the remained knots than his. It was so innocently unconscious of Shawn to keep going on like he was wholly recovered from that previous relationship and he caught himself laughing at his own actions after realizing how dumb he was, how stupid. He got way too blinded by that hurried wish of belonging to the girl who had to move past his hotel room door and ended up carried away to the middle of nowhere, having his frustration and guilt as company.

Some curious eyes were watching him and he decided to watch back, finding distraction on a few smirks towards him and all the bodies swaying from side to side addicted to the sound and some others were staring at him with their silhouettes standing still, a single pair studying his frame from afar and getting covered by the people coming across.

“We have the fate by our side, remember?”

A voice pops up on his head, his ears focusing on nothing more than this tone banging violently inside his brain as he props himself to stand on his feet, leaving the heavy glass aside on the counter. His vision is too blurry to process what is he exactly seeing and his head is also whirling, not helping him for a bit even though he’s blinking rapidly to brush it off somehow. A hand comes up to wipe the liquid standing on the edges of his lips, instantly flying to his shirt so he can fix the way he’s looking and give his chest a glimpse of fresh air to cool the boiling sensation of the alcohol. He tilts his head up, standing on his tiptoes and he goes from side to side in order to clear the view.

“If it’s supposed to happen, we’ll find a way.”

Shawn feels his knees failing and his throat drying, breathing heavier through his mouth, lips parted and he scrunches his eyebrows, wondering if he’s seeing things or if someone put an extra on his whiskey — and concluding that he actually just drank way too much but that answer doesn’t make the shape of her disappear. He’s not daydreaming, he’s not hallucinating.

“You gotta let me go, sweetheart.”

And just like this, her eyes leave his and she trails her way through the crowd, making it hard for him to follow her with his sight so he immediately moves. It obviously wouldn’t be easy. The excuse me’s are being said all over again, his soberness showing up for a moment now that he’s decided to go after what’s been driving him insane over the past months and ask for a chance to simply apologise if she’s not into hearing all the stuff he had put into new unreleased songs, saying goodbye to the rest of sanity that he had left. Through selfie requests and people pinned down on their spots, he rushes his steps and he’s not going to waste any more time on asking ‘please, can I pass?’ and mumbling thank you’s — it’s unmanageable but he literally acts like there’s no one else inside that pub than him and her, who’s reaching the stairs and climbing them rapidly. Shawn would buy her game with no complains, he’s a fool for this type of love-story and it’d be a wonderful situation to turn into poetry if he hadn’t so many people blocking the two meters separating him from the first degree.

 Among twisted lines trailed by his feet and eyes peeking out every corner, he crosses the hall above the stairs after going up. There are couples making out, one or two people smoking and empty glasses leading to a semi-opened door at the very end of the corridor. He’s glad everyone else is probably drunker than he is, so he looks back when he arrives the door to rotate the yellow sign hanging on the door — hiding the indication of ‘Rooftop’ to show the ‘Interdicted’ behind it, soon stepping out of the dark place.

 The roof is illuminated by the moonlight and occupied by some chairs and small couches distributed along the big space, the wind blowing colder as the sky could barely get dark by the moon so bright up in there among the stars and thin clouds. The lights of the apartments shutting down here and there, but not weakening the beautiful sight standing in front of that unique silhouette. Her hair is being blown lightly and so is the big coat covering her entire back until the beginning of her thighs and he has to stop himself from running directly at her; from approaching her body in the neediest embrace that he knows he’s capable of. “You know that hide-and-seek was my least favourite game when I was little?” He chuckles softly. As per usual, his unmistakable voice gets her vulnerable. His sweet tone, always floating between low and raspy to harmonious and joyful seemed to entice her and there was no turning back. Not that she wasn’t expecting him to follow and find her, but she needed at least two good minutes to settle down and think about what to say because it was certain that Shawn would hit her with questions and thoughts of his. She turns around; too shy to face him after what happened a month ago so she keeps on looking at her own feet, smiling to the ground and supporting both elbows on the balcony meanwhile he closes the door behind him. His nervousness starts to show up and it makes him smile too as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt to roll up the sleeves, revealing his tattooed arm and letting the air cool the parts of his body. “Don’t you have a tour to take care of?” Still staring down, she asks and she doesn’t mean to sound rude. For someone who barely has time to hang out, it’s a surprise to see him outside the studios and backstage. “I didn’t expect to see you here too,” Shawn jokes, knowing that this is what she actually meant. He hides his hands on the pockets of his pants and walks slowly towards her, not wanting to get near enough to scare her away — but dying to get near enough to watch the moonlight lightning up her face. “I have a few days off, just needed to distract myself… Get some air, do different things, you know?” Stopping two or three steps away from her, he keeps on waiting for her to look at him since that’s what he’s been craving for several days. “Yeah,” She mumbles, breathing deeply before tilting her head up and seeing that he’s closer than she thought he was — the signature chocolate-fallen-curl contrasting with the colour of his skin and matching his eyes at the same time, so locked on the shapes of her face like he had found her for the first time. “How’s everything?” “How’s everything?” He questions back, voice squeaking a little and he giggles. Like it isn’t obvious. “Everything’s been terribly awful,” This time, his intonation falls an octave and his stride comes forward a little bit more and he surprisingly doesn’t stagger, gulping before moving on now that her eyes just founded his. “Everything’s been dreary ever since you left,” The wind hit them harder and, when she closes her eyes to avoid it, Shawn sees a teardrop moistening her eyelashes and her bottom lip being hidden by her teeth sinking down on the plump skin so fiercely. “You feel the same, don’t ya?” How can see right through her like this? It’s so unfair, she thinks, and so dumb of her to show such weakness this immediate. She opens her eyes and blinks quickly to dissipate the tears, sniffing faintly and holding her own arms to warm her body somehow, also to comfort her own shaky limbs instead of giving in and throwing herself at his strong arms. “I know you do,” He emphasizes and he’s 100% sure that he’s right. They’ve never broken this connection between them. Call him crazy, but he could swear that her heart is beating as heavily as his even when she was far away from him during this whole time — their respiration have the same hurried pace, both their minds work together like they depend on each other and it’s undeniable that their chest flutter with the same feeling. “Listen,” He starts, pausing to lick his lips and close all the space between them, the tips of their feet nudging as he holds his hands together to stop the urge of caressing her arms and pulling her to himself. “There’s so much I wanna tell you. Would it be okay if we talk?” She takes in the way he’s looking concerned at her, internally hoping he hadn’t asked for too much. “Sure,” She says and he looks around to find which one of the seats is the most comfortable. “But not here, ‘s way too cold.” Ending with a soft smile, she suggests and Shawn literally melts inside when seeing a happy expression of hers, even if it’s not fully sincere.

This sparkled something in Shawn, he wants to see more of that and he wants to be the reason behind her happiness. During the time they were walking past the stairs and the dancing bodies to reach the exit door, he begun to list all the important things he’d been thinking about to show her how sorry he feels for making her feel like a backup, for making her wait, for hurting her feelings and for not being the perfect guy for the perfect girl that she is. He doesn’t know how he managed to focus on her sat down beside him on the passenger seat and on this list at one go, but it worked for the time they were inside his Jeep driving to the apartment he got in Toronto with the radio turned on — so when there wasn’t a red light for him to stop and glance at her through the corner of his eye, he could rely on her tone singing the songs along in a timid volume. Shockingly, there wasn’t a tension. The anxiousness was certain, but the fact that they wanted and needed this moment got higher than any other type of intimidating emotions. It felt so good to be together again, even if it’s only physically speaking — they don’t know where this is going, there might be no reconciliation but being close feels right, feels like home.

At the elevator, he leaned against the cold wall and she turned to the mirror to fix all the imperfections (perfections, to Shawn) as his eyes burned all of her in a compelled stare. She’s too beautiful to be true according to his conclusions, too precious not to be held the entire time and too sweet to waste her time with someone who can’t treat her right. They kept on stealing glances here and there, earning smiles and sighs from each other like when she stepped inside the elevator on his building at their first date — when he took her to see the Christmas lights after dinner, and he’d tour the entire Canada with her if she asked to. He remembers being now exactly the way he was back at this day: heart beating faster, eyes glued on every action of hers with his brain electing all the emotions he needed to let her know.

The apartment is as cozy as she remembered. The couch is white, the view is still very beautiful and the living room is slightly disorganized. On the center table there’s a few pages sharing the space with a pick, a pen, a half-empty bottle of water and a mug. The window is open, curtains swaying as the wind invades the room and gives both of them chills. “Get yourself comfortable,” Shawn says, shutting the door close and locking it just in case someone decides to leave the pub sooner. She takes off her shoes to leave next to the door and walks bashfully; feeling the softness of the mat sprawled in the middle of the room under the wooden table as she sits down on the couch. He drops his keys on the counter of the kitchen and follows her with his eyes. “God, I’m sorry! What a fuckin’ mess—“ “We’re not here to talk about the mess,” She cuts him off, getting up to reach and grab him by the arm to join her. “We’re here to talk about something else, aren’t we?” “Of course, of course,” Being dragged by the arm, he lets her pull him and he tugs at his curls before holding her hand more forcefully, impeding her to sit down again. “You look pretty in this dress.” He smirks but not dirtily — on the contrary — it’s a grin filled with the purest joy. “Yeah?” Asking, she keeps standing on her feet and spins around with the help of his arm raising to whirl her by the hand. “This guy gave it to me on my birthday. Pretty cool, right?” “Awesome!” He chuckles, holding and caressing her hand while he dares to get nearer. “He’s got taste, eh?” “He wore Saint Laurent to the Met Gala so, yeah, he’s got a whole lot of taste.” They laugh simultaneously, allowing themselves to ignore the seriousness of this meeting for a moment. As they’re both people who hate confrontation, that feels like a good start before discussing things over. “Can I hug you?” With puppy eyes, Shawn asks her impulsively and she feels completely unable to say no. Tiptoeing to hold him by the shoulders, she snuggles in and he embraces her middle leisurely from the very edge of his fingertips to his palm, ending up trapping her with his thick arms. They both close their eyes and their breathing get calm. Their hearts, on the other hand, are beating insanely and banging each other’s bodies, their upper halfs pulsating from finally getting back to where they belong. “I missed you so much.” That’s all it takes for her to start crying. “Missed you too.” She murmurs, clutching at his body harder and the tears are wetting her cheeks. Shawn feels a huge knot forming on his throat, begging to be released in a cry and, holding her tighter, he lets it out. He can’t disguise if it’s from having her there against him, or if it’s the fear consuming him and reminding the possibility that she wants to go on without him, if it’s both, if it’s none of these things… It’s all very blurry but this torture has to end, and it has to be now before he goes madly insane. “C’mere,” He says, letting go of her partly to sit down and drop his hands: one to hold hers and the other one to wipe away his and her tears. “I… Well, first I want to apologise. I’ve been nowhere close to what you deserve, I was an asshole and—“ Shawn uses the hand that’s not holding hers to rub his face, covering his mouth at the end of it so his following words start to come out muffled but audible enough for her to listen. “And I know that nothing in this world can fix what I did to you. God, and I’ve tried — I’ve tried to fool myself and accept that this would never happen again but not for a single moment I found myself able to get you out of my head,” His hazel eyes are deeply connected with hers, occasionally dropping to see her lips parting and her eyebrows frowning in the pain they’re sharing of struggling so much to find a way to give this relationship the decision it needs. “What is this that you’re doing to me?” Questioning kind of angrily, Shawn seems to get more and more lost. He’ll never figure out exactly what gets him on his knees for her, it’s every little thing about the girl in front of him.  “I can’t get you out of my mind. When I’m sleeping, when I’m singing, when I’m writing… You’re there all the fuckin’ time. I can’t… I can’t do something that’s not related to you anymore and you can totally tell me to shut the fuck up right now before I do something stupid, but I love you. I… Holy shit I love you so much it hurts,” He leans closer, moving a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear and touch their noses and foreheads together. “And I’m not sorry for this.” It’s too late for her to notice his lips coming because it happens suddenly. About two seconds ago he was standing distant and now their lips are pressed against each other as both his hands hold her face with an urgent need. She lifts her eyebrows in surprise but doesn’t back off — instead, she brings her hands to hold his arms and feels his entire body trembling, holding back the cry with all his strength. Nothing else seems to matter now. They’re finally fading into the touch they’ve been missing so much and it feels so right and so wrong at the same time. He reschedules the thought of deepening the kiss for some other time, pecking her lips repeatedly and slowly at the same time, enjoying the tender graze of their mouths brushing together. “No one wants this more than I do, trust me,” She mumbles, sighing soon after. “But how am I—“ “There’s nobody else,” Shawn interrupts, knowing that he failed her trust. “It’s you. It’s only you.” “Shawn,” Nodding in denial, she tries to move away but his hold won’t let her. He doesn’t mean to come off impolite, but it’s practically unconscious. “It’s easy to say.” “Then tell me what do I do,” He looks her deep in the eyes, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb. “Tell me what I can do to make you mine for a lifetime.” His words are a trap, cornering her and making it hard to avoid her most sincere desires. Her mind can’t form an instant choice and the only thing she knows is that she’s dying to say yes, as many times as needed. Too bad it isn’t simple like this, there’s so much to heal and yet a big lack of patience. “Just say the words, babe,” He sinks his fingers into her hair, tugging at it lightly to tilt her head back so he can have her mouth at his mercy right in front of his. “I’ll do anything if it means I’m never going to see you leaving me again.” He whispers, at the merge of sobbing as he feels his head starting to ache from the whiskey and the crying. All that he wants now is her. She’s the only one that can ease all the agony that’s taking over him. “Jeez!” She hisses, defeated and weak for him. “Shawn, I—“ “Stop me if you don’t want this,” He understands how difficult it is for her to put into words by the way she’s having issues to breathe properly. “But I need you so bad, babe, so bad,” Mouthing at her lips, he loosens the grip on her hair so she can relax and lean against him. “Let me show you how much I love you, how sorry I am…” And like this he descends to the curve of her shoulder, planting wet kisses up to her neck — taking from the base to the skin under her ear with all the passion he’s got. “Let me make you mine again.” She doesn’t wait when he reaches her jaw to move his mouth to the corner of hers, capturing his lips in a deep kiss filled with all the emotions burning inside their bodies. He holds the nape of her neck and her waist with strong hands, pulling her to himself as he breathes harshly, searching for all the air he can get to keep kissing her with all that he’s got. Shawn slips his tongue past her lips and she reciprocates, letting their kiss mix together at the point where she moves forward to straddle his lap and, before his back can hit the couch, he’s grabbing her by the back of her thighs and rushing to his room.

He doesn’t care to turn on the lights, taking advantage on the moonlight breaking through the window to see the bed where he puts her body down on gently to promptly get rid of his dress shirt without undoing the buttons — he holds onto the fabric and simply stretch the edges apart and pull it out from his jeans, throwing the now-ruined cloth away and kicking off his boots and socks. She’s still shifting her frame on his bed but he doesn’t waste time on lying above her after she takes off her coat to leave it aside, traveling his tattooed hand through the side of her silhouette covered by the black velvet dress separating the warmness of her skin from his graze while he finds her lips again. They’re devouring each other’s mouth, letting loud smacks fly throughout the room and she starts to grab his arms for dear life, encouraging to push his instincts farther, profounder on her, not stopping for a second to care about bruises and hickeys — it’s distractingly intense, dripping lust and an unstoppable compulsion to kill this distance with the love that runs through their veins; spreading an enormous heat all over their skin. Shawn traces her clavicle and presses his fingers down as they move to the thin strap of her dress, going under the piece of cloth and hauling it down her arm and immediately doing the same with the remaining strap. She’s tugging at his thick curls ferociously and he bites her bottom lip, pulling it to himself and watch it spring back in place when he releases it. They’re frantically inhaling and exhaling noisily, her arms coming back down just for him to expose the skin of her stomach and chest and flying back to where they belong: him. She’s squeezing the muscles of his shoulder as he goes down to attack her neck with hot and needy kisses, the curls of his hair tickling her chin and soon moving away with his head going down so he can mark her skin with suctions and love-bites, embellishing all the way from her throat to her collarbones with red stains turning into purple already and she can’t help but squirm everytime his teeth graze her icy body, getting lost in the way he’s consuming her entire being like it’s the last time he’s ever going to cover her middle with his skilled mouth. “Fuckin’ missed this,” Shawn mutters between smooches and bites, his hand everywhere all at once while her back starts lifting off the mattress as she shivers. “Fuckin’ missed your body all to myself,” With the black velvet on his hands, he keeps on loving every inch he started revealing while her tight dress was being removed, pulled down to her hipbones and then legs, soon joining his long-gone dress shirt on the floor. “Fuckin’ missed you, babe,” Hovering over her again after throwing her cloth away, he whispers close to her mouth and clings their frames against each other gently, not wanting to smash her with his front. It’s electrifying the touch happening in this moment, their touches stringing and giving them all the answers they’ve been searching for: this is where they’re meant to be, this is the right thing to do. “I love you.” “I love you more,” She whispers back, wasting no time on replying him and venting her aching heart out shamelessly. “Been missing you so much…” And she has no more space to speak. He smiles widely and brings his lips back to hers, overwhelming her whole body with a heated kiss. The pressure between their lips is perfectly added as they lock and unlock their mouths with more patience, tasting each other’s tongues lazily like there’s no tomorrow — and even if it has, Shawn doesn’t wanna leave this moment; he wants to stay in this bed and make love to her until the sunrise so he’s going to have an eternity fitted in these hours to make her moan and tremble underneath him as many times as he wants to, definitely keeping this night eternized somewhere inside his heart and soul, materializing this eternity. She needs more of this, so she threatens to inch closer and stand on her elbows but Shawn is quicker to press his palm down on her middle and pin her on the bed. They’re both breathing deeply into the kiss and he lowers to trail a long stripe with loud kisses from her cheeks — loving one side with his lips and grazing the other side with the back of his fingers;  to her jawline — tickling the skin above it with his teeth, unable to hold a smile from this joy of being with her again; neck — switching between kisses, licks and suctions, leaving a curved line of hickeys drawing her sweetest spots; chest — pecking the expansion without leaving a single space behind as he drives his hand to her back, unclasping her bra and tossing it somewhere away so he can capture one of her nipples with his lips, fondling the other one with his index and middle finger while the other ones work along with his palm to massage her breast; stomach — applying a heavier pressure on his kisses in order not to tickle her and keep on taking away those low whimpers she’s giving to him, her skin showing goosebumps under his touch as he gives all the inches the love they deserve, the love they’ve been craving with his eyes fluttered closed, mind deeply concentrated; hipbones — feeling the curve of them against his swollen and wet lips and catching her underwear in between his teeth to pull it away from her just to release and let it softly slap her body, opening his eyes only to look at her utterly fucked and having issues to maintain her breathing patterned; thighs — covering the smooth skin with his mouth like he’s french-kissing like they’re her lips, heating the inner parts with his touch and not breaking eye-contact with her this time, his curls starting to fall down and eyes attentive on her; and her covered heat. She’s helplessly dripping wet and groaning, barely keeping her body in place from this torture. Bucking her hips forward, she meets his tongue coming up her pussy and a loud moan escapes her parted lips, her hands flying to his curls and grabbing the locks and punishing them between her fingers. Shawn embraces her thighs while watching her becoming a mess, grasping the sheets and looking back at him with desperation, needing him to do something, anything. It’s a wild dream that he doesn’t wanna wake up from. Holding her legs forcefully, he stops her from squirming too much after taking off her soaked panties. She quivers a little, feeling the colder air blowing her dripping core before he covers it with his tender tongue, licking boldly from her entrance to her clit repetitively — yet slowly — and attaching his lips around her bundle of nerves to suck on it, pulling to his mouth the taste of her that he’s been starving for ever since he realized the hurried urge to consume her body blooming inside his mind. She’s letting out broken sobs, nearly suffering from how delightful it feels to have her throbbing clit being caressed by his soft lips and wet tongue, making her go even wetter if that’s possible. Tilting her head, she sees the curve of his upper lip molding perfectly the beginning of her lower lips and her heart starts to miss the beats, she’s not sure she can take this amount of pleasure but surely wants to keep going at the moment he digs his short nails into her thighs and eats her out mightily. Shawn tugs the skin of her sensitive clit between his red lips and licks it devotedly to suck it more roughly, making her eyes roll to the back of her head as she gives up on the bed to finally let her body feel the moment relaxed against the mattress, the tingling sensation down on her entrance and knot on her lower stomach growing more and more messing with her senses. The noises coming from his actions are driving her insane, crying out his name like it’s the only thing she knows and God knows how much this is making his member get close to explode inside those tight jeans, also warming his chest and spurring his heart to beat agonizingly fast in happiness, love, relief and the other countless emotions that he’s not decently conscious to name. “Shawn, I need you,” She manages to say among the growls. “I can’t take it anymore, please.” Honestly, neither can Shawn. It’s speedy the way he gets up to unbutton his black jeans and pull it down with his underwear, his cock springing up and bouncing after leaving the constricted fabrics and she’s ready to get up and knee in front of him but when she sees, he’s already above her and grabbing her wrists together upon her head. “I just gotta feel you,” Sticking their foreheads together — with that obstinate s-shaped-curl between them — he lies down on her silhouette slightly to feel her temperature mixing with his. “Is that okay?” “Yes,” She pants close to his mouth. “Just please, babe…” He lines himself up, brushing his angry tip against her clit and entrance and moistening her with pre-cum, both their parts craving that first thrust going deep inside of her as he bottoms out almost immediately. It’s hard to suppress a moan so he lowers a little bit more, supporting himself on one arm besides her as the other one goes under the nape of her neck to grab at the hair upon it, lightly scratching when his fingers curls inside to hold her strands and tilting it back to expose more of her skin for him to descend and suckle that region under her ear with a fiery desire. “Love you,” She murmurs, scarcely noticeable and holding his face and moving it towards hers while she says it. “Not more than I love you,” He replies instantly and brushes their noses together before stealing a frantic kiss.

Now it’s all slow.

He pushes his hardened member back and forth deliberately, making her feel all his length millimeter by millimeter meanwhile they’re kissing unhurriedly. She moves her hands to his shoulders, taking a good handful of them whenever he buries himself inside of her completely and then traveling to his muscular back, scraping at it and leaving red lines along the expansion of his prominent muscles, bringing his body impossibly closer. When Shawn breaks the kiss is just to sink his cock strongly, in a deafening roll of his skin slapping hers, to groan stridently as he contorts his face in pleasure. The air seems to leave her lungs when he tries it again, doing it even deeper and tougher practically knocking the sanity out of her when he hits her spot with this much force. Her mouth falls in agape, eyebrows frowning and he looks at her doing the same expression, driving into her more and more aggressively, their bodies smacking and filling the room with that incomparable sound. At the same time it’s raw and rough it’s unbelievably delicious — every thrust of his sliding easily in and out and although it’s steady, it has a raced pace: he goes all the way in very fast and powerfully to let her tight walls hold his cock closely at the point it makes him go lightheaded, veins in his arms darting out and his hairline is getting wet but not for a split second he thinks about stopping. He only wants more: more of her back arching, more of her legs shaking uncontrollably, more of her nails digging into his back, more of her mewls and eyes rolling profoundly… “More,” Shawn hears her begging, promptly relying on that hand that was on her hair to use his right arm to grab her leg and bend it up, giving her a new angle. “Give it to me,” He’s rumbling and pushing ferociously, the hazel eyes never leaving hers as he hits her in every thinkable way. She starts to squeeze his dick harder and he starts to twitch, grazing her g-spot even more lusciously and he can feel his orgasm at the merge of washing him off. It’s so hard to hold himself when he’s gliding so easily, so deliciously that it makes both their heads spin while everything around them seems to fade away. There’s nothing else than their sex overriding them, there’s nothing else than their moans entwined in the most beautiful symphony and their highs exploding inside their bodies. She feels her entrance pulsating and he’s already low-growling with his raspy tone into her divided lips, filling her with hot ribbons that are fading into her orgasm following not long after and he collapses onto her frame, trembling and holding her as they try to recover their respiration. “Fuck,” He whispers, thrusting very slowly still. They’re wasted but he doesn’t want it to end, doing his best to respect her sensitiveness and suggest a round two at the same time, typical boyish grin highlighting his small scar. “Please, never leave this bed.” “Will not,” She answers, eyes fluttered close as she palms his flushed chest.

 When the sunrise breaks into his bedroom with no further warnings, he feels the bright light trying to invade his eyelids and turns around to face the other side of the bed. He lazily stretches his arm to touch a body that’s not there. This is what spurs him to open his eyes. Eyelids lightly squinted, he eyes around the bedroom to find the floor clear like not even he stepped inside this place for the last 12 hours. The space beside him on the bed is perfectly made, the pillow is fluffed and free of any signs that someone had rested on there for the last night until now and he still has his dress shirt on with his black Calvins and only one sock on his foot. “What the fuck?” He mumbles, sitting and rubbing his face. This doesn’t make sense, there’s no way. How the hell she could’ve managed to sneak out without leaving a trail behind it’s a question that has no coherent answers. And it’s so not her type to go out and dress him instead of stealing his shirt to keep it to herself. Shawn tosses the blanket away and gets up to knock on the bathroom door and get no responses, flicking the doorknob open and finding the place just the way he left last night: his cologne is on top of the sink, his toothbrush in the right spot and the towels are correctly arranged just like the mat. He enjoys the moment to splash some cold water on his face and brush his teeth, looking at his own reflection on the mirror and seeing that his skin is normal — no hickeys, no scratches, not a single bruise or bite. His eyes are reddened though, kinda swollen and very tired. He takes long strides to the living room, where his notes are still above the black center-table with the bottle of water completely filled and untouched and the mug besides the pen. Chewing on his bottom lip, he looks at the whole room spinning in place and there’s not a damn indication that she’d been here. Maybe he was wrong, maybe someone did put an extra on his whiskey and the effects are happening just now. She has to be here, she has to be somewhere inside this condo. Shawn rushes back to the bedroom, grabbing his phone and searching for a message or whatever gives him a warning of where the fuck she’s hiding herself.

iMessage from Brian: hey dude. left ur keys on the counter last night and i’m gettin some breakfast n bacon to take care of this hangover. don’t die, brb!

Scrolling down, he sees nothing more than the usual. He scrunches his brows, opening his Instagram and instantaneously seeing a post from her in Toronto from 10 hours ago somewhere not even close to the pub he went to last night. She’s wearing the same dress he gifted her, though — hugging her shape dreamily and just from looking at it Shawn can feel the fabric in between his calloused fingers, and he smiles painfully.

 Under the steamy water, he runs his fingers through his hair a thousand times like the rubbing would make his brain dissipate the clouds from his thoughts. Nothing makes sense, nothing fits, nothing belongs together. When he’s sitting down back on bed with his soaked hair dripping waterdrops onto his back and chest, Brian pops his head inside the semi-opened door of his bedroom with a cup of coffee on his hand. “Hey, man!” Shawn looks at him and silently allows him in. “Feeling better?” “Guess I…” He frowns, eyes focusing on nothing. “Did we smoke yesterday?” “No, dude,” Brian answers, chuckling lightly. “But it looked like you did.” “What’s that?” “You were yelling her name in the middle of the pub for everyone to hear and that was so fucked up.” Then reality shoves a punch on his face. Hard. “So fucked up…” It was all a motherfucking dream from the moment Brian held him and forced him into the Jeep to come back home. The tears were wetting his face crazily and he couldn’t stop calling out her name from that second to when his best friend put him on bed, so drunk and so fucked up. “This shit’s all over the internet, isn’t it?” Shawn asks, facepalming with both hands. “Chill, bro,” He hears Brian responding. “We got you out of there coolly, don’t worry,” He takes a sip of his coffee, watching his friend sitting down and feeling miserable, wishing he could do something more. It’s almost motherly the way Brian stares at Shawn. “Got you breakfast, c’mon up—“ “Thanks, man, I’m good.” “You gotta eat, bitch,” Brian says playfully. “I’m not really into saving your ass from another catastrophe that soon.” This time, Shawn laughs exhaling through his nose and gets up. “Thank you for yesterday,” They smack hands together and pull each other for a side hug. “I owe you one,” After they release, Shawn fixes his towel around his v-line. “If you don’t mind I’d like to—“ “Be alone, yup,” Brian winks at him, stepping out of the room. “Gotcha. Good luck, man. If you need me I’ll be at Ian’s.”

As soon as he hears Brian closing the front door, he finishes putting on his boots and unlocks his screen open to find a chat and press onto the voice recording button. Holding it, he goes to the mirror to pass his hand on his hair for the last time. “Hey, uhm… I know this is random but… Can you meet me down on Adelaide Street?” And even though the message hasn’t been seen yet, he goes to the kitchen to take his keys and drive all the way there.

 And sitting down on his favourite café, he orders that meal he knows she likes to share with him while he tries to come down from the most gorgeous nightmare of his life, admiring the view from the ambient out there as he efforts his nerves not to feel empty anymore, expecting her to show up and fill his hollow being with the pleasure of having her presence physically, out of the mess that his mind has become.

He’s seen that she listened to his voice memo about an hour ago but didn’t respond. Shawn can’t stop staring at the chat wordlessly, gulping and breathing deeply before he’s snapped out of his own little world by a sweet-unique tone coming together with that enticing scent only he knew better than anyone else.

“Wanted to see me?” 

[melaninhuntress]

Aphrodite April Days

Since I wasn’t able to write a post for each day of the challenge I decided to put all of my responses in one post. Even though I wasn’t able to do all days I did enjoy this opportunity to bond with Aphrodite and to reflect on our relationship.

Day 2: Plan a special ritual in honor of Aphrodite and your love for her

This is my first time honoring Aphrodite on the Full moon so I wanted to make this ritual as special as possible. I thought possibly doing a bath ritual but since that is something I am used to doing with her I also thought about doing something different like maybe maybe meditate with her. I wrote down a list of all of her symbols and I definitely wanted to incorporate seashells, rose quartz, and pomegranate in the ritual somehow.

Day 3: Share your own personal associations (concepts/symbols/animals/colors..etc)

I personally associate her with rose quartz, Valentine's Day, and the entire month of February.

Day 4:Which of her myths is your favorite?

My favorite myth so far is the one where she is born of sea foam

Day 5:List your favorite epithets and why

My favorites so far are "She Who Turns to Love," "Laughter-Loving," "Of the Sea," "Foam-Born" and "Risen from the Sea." The first two because it reminds me how she represents all types of love which include self-love and how part of loving oneself is to accept your mistakes and not take yourself too seriously. The last three is because they remind me of Aphrodite's sea aspect as it is amongst the aspects that I connect with her the most.  

Day 6: Share your favorite hymn

I like the Orphic Hymn#55 that's dedicated to Aphrodite

Day 7: Share your  Full moon ritual and how it went with Aphrodite

I usually mediate with Artemis and Hekate on the full moon so I decided to do two separate sessions and do Aphrodites the following day instead. During my session with Artemis and Hekate I had an intense visualization and Aphrodite appeared to me as a representation of Libra which I didn't expect for her to do and she told me that it's time to take my place in the world.For my ritual for Aphrodite the following day I split it in two portion: a cleansing bath portion and a Sea Sinking (meditation) portion. For the cleansing bath I used bath bombs, shea butter and pomegranate wash. During the bath I took time to soak myself with in it to become in tune with its energy. I begin to cleanse myself of miasmic thoughts and situations. I begin say that I am loved and I am worthy of love from myself and others, I am worthy of respect from myself and others, that I am beautiful and strong and smart. During this time I visualized the water’s energy being pink as I was washing myself. I then felt compelled to do some affirmations while also washing myself with rose bar soap and African black soap, by saying that I am powerful, I am magical, I am in tune with the universe and the universe is in tune with me, I am in tune with the forces of nature an the forces of nature are in tune with me, I am in tune with the ancestors and the ancestors are in tune with me, I trust that the ancestors would provide what I need, I am a root worker who harness ancestral power, I am a witch who’s power comes from sea, earth, and cosmos, I am a Child of the universe, a Child of God, I am many things but most in importantly I am me. From that moment I felt a release and I smiled with joy and proceeded to drain the bath water and to rinse myself with the shower.Afterwards I put pomegranate lotion on and I retrieved all of my items for the sea sinking/grounding part of the ritual which included seashells, sea glass, rose quartzes, and frankincense. I than burned the incense on Aphrodite's altar and my cleansing and protection sprays to create a barrier to protect the space around it. I formed a circle with my items and invoked Aphrodite to proceed with the meditation. I originally wanted ocean music to accompany the sessions but I had issues with my phone that prevented me from accessing a video with the music. I felt disappointed and shameful that did all of this for Aphrodite and its not working out well but Aphrodite strongly assured me that we can still do it without the ocean music. I decided to go along what she said and continue the sinking by imaging the ocean sounds in my mind and asked my Ori to guide the visualization. The visualization while blurry and unrefined had me in a beach with the ocean waves in front of me and I was wearing a blue dress again while barefooted. I then asked Aphrodite where we were and she said were in a beach.  During the process I felt that it wasn’t working and tried to open my eyes but Aphrodite assured me that it was. I then felt compelled to get into the ocean so I did a dive and was floating underwater. I than saw Aphrodite come up to me and some menfolk by her side (maybe nereids or oceanids?), she than grabbed my arm and dragged me a couple of feet through the ocean and she than faced me and said that I am worthy of love and I am loved while cupping my cheek and kissing my forehead. I asked her what if I won’t remember that I am loved and she said that I always will. Then the visualization blurred and I opened my eyes. I asked her to confirm if it was real and it happened and she said it did. I was happy that it worked out but apologized how isn’t end up as I planned and she told me not worry about that. I then realized that I didn’t bring an apple as an offering or my water scrying water but assured that there was no need for the former and that the latter can be done this Friday. I thanked her for her presence and ended the ritual.  

Day 8: Talk about a UPG you have?

I'm not sure if this counts as UPG but I feel like Aphrodite is a huge shipper when it comes to fictional characters just we tend to be.

Day 9: Songs that remind you of Aphrodite and share your playlist

My Aphrodite playlist is very long because I put all of my favorite love and romance songs from movies, musicals, tv shows and from individual singers while putting in songs that center around other types of love like friendship , familial, and self love and some some songs that have sexual themes. So for this I'll just share ten of the songs that are on that list.

"Show Yourself"-Frozen II

"Change Your Mind"-Steven Universe

"True Kind of Love"-Steven Universe: The Movie

"Nobody's Perfect"-Hannah Montana

"Can You Feel the Love Tonight"-Elton John

"You've Got a Friend In Me" -Toy Story

"One Love"-Jordan Pruitt

"Kiss"-Prince

"You Belong with Me"-Taylor Swift

"Seasons of Love"-RENT

Day 11: What are some daily things you do/in honor of Aphrodite?

I haven't been consisted lately but I generally dedicate my self care to her as one of the things she has reminded me is that self care is itself a form of self love.

Day 12: Talk about how you personally see Aphrodite or create/share an image?

I generally see her as a brunette with long wavy hair with peachy skin that that has a slight tan. Sometimes she wears a pink prom like dress with white gloves and other times she wears a pink chiton. Those are the forms she usually appears to me in my visualizations.

Day 13: A person you associate with Aphrodite (someone you know or a celebrity)

I personally find that one of my best friends Hanna gives me strong Aphrodite vibes mostly because I noticed that the role that Aphrodite plays in my life is similar to what Hanna's was.

Day 14: A fictional character you associate with Aphrodite

There are a lot of characters that remind me of her. For this I would like to talk about Miss Piggy and Stella from Winx Club.

Miss Piggy is a lot of things: self-confidant, self-indulgent, self-absorbed, self-centered, self-assured, self-reliant.....a lot of the words that begin with "self" applies to her haha. Miss Piggy has a lot of self worth that is often demonstrated in many ways throughout Muppet media. Two of my favorite moments was that Three Little Pigs segment in Muppets Classic Theater when that wolf commented on her body shape and she snarked at him back and that scene in The Muppets 2011 film when the Muppets almost replaced her with Miss Poogy and she burst right in the studio to reclaim her place. Both of these moments capture a lot of aspects of Miss Piggy and one of these aspects is her huge amount of self worth. She was like "you're trying to take my place? In my original gang? Replace me? I don't think so bitch." She reminds me of Aphrodite because I perceive her as a goddess who knows her worth and isn't ashamed at being herself.

Stella from Winx Club reminds me of Aphrodite for the some of same reasons as Miss Piggy. Stella is a huge fashionista, can be self centered and vain but despite all of this I really admire how Stella is always there for her love ones. I often perceive Aphrodite as a goddess who is dedicate to what she loves so when she loves someone or something, she loves it hard. This applies to Stella such as when she sacrificed herself to save her father  and when her boyfriend fell in a hole in the Under Realm with Stella jumping in after him. Stella is powered by the sun so she was already very physically weak when she was underground yet that didn't stop her from attempting to save him.

Day 15: Tell a story about yours and Aphrodite's relationship

There was this Friday where I missed the bus to my meeting with my job couch and I had to rescheduled, I came back home very tired and feeling shame over not being able to make it I ended up sleeping on and off on the living room chair. I ended feeling bad that I was wasting my time sleeping throughout the day instead of honoring Aphrodite, she than came to me by saying that there is nothing wrong with taking a rest and reminded me that taking care of myself is a form of self love on its own. This moment really touched me because not only did it demonstrate that the Theoi appreciate small things and we can honor them by our own actions but also showed how much Aphrodite cared about me.

Day 16: What do you love most about Aphrodite?

I love her compassion and how she really gets intimate with her followers. She takes in all of us who feel unlovable and unworthy and makes feel very loved and cared for. Aphrodite is a goddess who fundamentally wants all of us her followers to love ourselves by seeing ourselves the way she sees us.

Day 17: Where do you most find/feel Aphrodite?

I mostly find her in the hair salons, in local water fowl, my altar for her and when I go out shopping with my mom and try on new clothes. I often felt very insecure trying on new clothes because I don't have the "perfect" body shape but there were times where I look at myself in the mirror and I feel like I am attractive and I hear Aphrodite counter by saying I look beautiful.

Day 18: Share your favorite piece of artwork that depicts Aphrodite or that you personally relate with her.

My pieces of artwork so far are these two that depict her portrayal in Percy Jackson & the Olympians and Percy Jackson

Day 19: What are some resources that you used to help you get closer to Aphrodite?

I used Theoi.com, the aphrodite worship and aphrodite devotion tag on Tumblr, PastelPriestess' Resources for Aphrodite Devotees was pretty helpful as well as the Ways of Worship: Aphrodite article on Vocal. I generally utilize bath rituals with themes of self love, confidence and the sea, putting on perfume, painting my nails, and my biweekly hair wash to feel closer to her. I sometimes try to practice affirmations while washing my face in honor of her in addition to listening to my playlist dedicated to her.

Day 20: Share some movies you associate with Aphrodite

So far I seem to associate Steven Universe: The Movie with her. I am not sure why though, it could be because the movie and the show its based on depicts various relationships (friendship, familial, healthy, unhealthy...) and all the it comes with these relationships such as jealousy, insecurity, idealization, disillusionment, heartache, and many others. Both the show and movie has a strong theme of love and one of the various ways it is embodied is through self love something which many characters such as Pearl and Amethyst struggled with.

Day 22: In honor of the New Moon, what’s something new you would like to bring into your worship/devotion?

I would like start planning feasts to share with Aphrodite, write my own hymn to her, explore my gender identity and to understand what it means for me, and to possibly start writing letters to her.

Day 23: Talk about one of Aphrodite’s lovers

I always felt a connection with Hephaestus due to being a disabled individual myself. I find that Hephaestus empowers me as a disabled person even though his is more physical and mine is mental. I struggle with internalized ableism which often manifests as making me feel like I have no worth in the grand schemes of things and Hephaestus helps me counter it by reminding me that I do have worth. One of the lessons that he has taught me is not instead of focusing on gaining the approval of neurotypicals I should instead focus on developing my personal skills and talents ("Don't tell them that you can do it, show them that you can"). Something came over to me one day where I wondered why Hephaestus never tries to gain the approval from others since he is kind of an outcast amongst his Olympians and possibly in Ancient Greece as well since he had few public shrines and temples but than the answer came to me: Hephaestus knows his own worth. He doesn't need to prove himself to others because he knows how important he is in the grand scheme of things, he knows that there is no way the Olympians would have their weapons without him and knowing this possibly prevents him from being insecure.   Hephaestus is the epitome of have self worth as a disabled/differently abled individual. I also admire his passion and dedication to his craft.

Day 26: What’s a misconception about Aphrodite that annoys you the most?

All common misconceptions of her anyone me but the one that annoys me the most is that she is all about sex, lust, and romantic love. I dislike how people reduce her to this traits in order to dismiss a less impressive goddess when she is so much more than that. Aphrodite accept all of us and that includes those of us in the ace and are spectrum. There are times when I sometimes feel insecure over demisexuality and how I don't often feel sexual attraction to the person I am romantically attracted towards which often causes me to question on the authenticity of my feelings. Aphrodite has reassured me that I don't need to experience sexual attraction for my romantic feelings to be valid.

Day 28: If you’re comfortable with it, share a pic of your altar/shrine and talk about it. If you don’t have one or are not comfortable sharing a picture, talk about what you would like your altar/shrine to look like and/or what it represents to you

My Aphrodite altar has a pink cloth with hearts on it as the base. Since I didn't have the money to buy a statue I instead made a jar to represent Aphrodite inspired by this post on deity jars. The jar is filled with seashells, rose quartz, clear quartz, pearl-like beads, dried pink rose petals, and sea glass. Surrounding the jar is a conch seashell that resembles the one I saw in my dream where Aphrodite reached out to me, seashells, sea glass, red rose petals, a red candle, perfume and scented boy lotion and my sachet dedicated to Aphrodite that was inspired by Aphroditiful's Aphrodite Spell Sachet. I often carry it with me either in my purse, pants pocket or jacket/coat pocket in order to keep he by my side and feel close to her. There is also a frog shaker which I added because I knew that is something se would like since frogs were associated with her and a jar with a mixture of Libra Full moon and Taurus New moon water in order to keep the energy of Aphrodite April with me.

Day 30: Talk a bit about the aspects of Aphrodite that tend to go unnoticed, such as her war side and her death side. What do they mean to you and how do you see them in her?

Aphrodite Areia, her war aspect, to me represent how love is a very powerful and strong emotion. Love when you think about it can often cause conflict as much as it can bring peace. What I think about Areia, I think about that scene where Mufasa wrecked Shenzi, Banzai, ad Ed after they tried to eat his son, even if he wasn't the king he still would have done that because he loves Simba that much, I also think about how people participate in war simply because they love their county and their love ones that much.  There is also the fact that love can cause jealousy, heartache, tears, pain, and sorrow. We often associate love with positive qualities and emotions but the fact that it can also cause negative emotions shows its duality and how very powerful it can be.

[ca1e70-deactivated]

a list of my entirely way too niche headcanons ive actually implemented for everyones imagination:

name options ive used and refuse to retire: david elizabeth strider (sometimes i dont feel like being a douche to others and saying thats not his name), harley davidson strider, and david james strider for the sake of simplicity

im not gonna tell yall the like. oc exes ive given him bc thatll take eighteen years. 

i dont rlly have an explanation on the ghost thing besides the fact he just can? ive occasionally pulled from family ghost stories and experiences bc i somehow got landed with family members who lived in a haunted house for a decade and enjoy scaring me with all the stories (including the time my cousin literally died on the kitchen floor from a bronchial spasm and one of the friends that was over asked my aunt later what was up with the old man she saw in the corner of the room that night - my cousin is fine btw shes just a huge bitch and a third grade teacher and i dont like her)

whether or not hes done drugs is based on absolutely nothing besides how im feeling in that moment. either hes the designated driver and sober friend forever or he got fired from his job after doing a line at work during graveyard with some random customers theres no inbetween (this absolutely happened @ waho. if dave works at waho hes a mess of a person and thats on the diner itself.)

ok look i hc dave w/schizophrenia besides when i was 14 i had a hyperfixation with learning about it and then at 16 was prescribed a medication and had side effects so wack my therapist genuinely thought 14 yr old me was onto something and its a weird way to cope with the idea that lady put in my head that i might “develop it in my twenties” which i turn 20 this year and i havent been able to stop obsessing and panicking over the prospect so PLEASE dont come in my inbox calling me ableist im not out here all harley quinn in suicide squad with the voices ok hes medicated, he goes to therapy, the hard fast delusion that lil cal was nearly sentient and informed bro of every single thing dave did no matter how asinine it was is no longer a debilitatingly affecting him ANYWAYS

i actually use the chicken/egg farming family pretty often just because its hilarious to me to give dave like. an actual mom and dad. hes literally an uncle to like three different kids he just never visits because they make fun of his skinny jeans and he hates one of his (incredibly bare-bones ocs all of them) brothers who threatened to bash his head in with a little league bat after dave broke his star wars lego set apart on accident (but not rlly) so their parents were like “why dont you stay with your brother in the big city for a lil while champ” and then they just never picked him back up? and thats on favoritism 

the other one is that his name is actually david reed and hes the middle child of a family of three who literally live the standard golden retriever white middle class life only they went to disney land or something equally as dumb one year when dave was like 6 and he wandered off so bro literally just went “huh free game” because frankly he was an idiot who thought maybe i should take this kid home because its real dangerous in parking lots and then it was too late to NOT have it seem like a kidnapping and thats why daves never had a summer job, seen his birth certificate, or gone to school. but vaguely remembers what kindergarten was like and having a pet dog and calling someone mom as a kid. 

im not making a bullet point about his sex life headcanons just use your imagination and acknowledge the fact bro essentially worked within the sex industry and i enjoy putting dave through trauma as a catharsis 

i stopped doing this one usually but if he did go to school hes been in percussion since fifth grade and played the drums in his high schools jazz band as well as various edgy teenager garage bands he likes to pretend dont have a youtube presence and that hes absolutely never been shirtless in front of plenty of his classmates because he wore a hoodie to a show like an idiot. idk occasionally ill put him in an actual band he doesnt hate but keeps separate from his lil turntechGodhead internet persona (which i will ALSO touch upon in a sec) until they wind up getting looped into a tour with some bigger named band that has a show in *insert beta kid here*’s city and hes gotta come clean solely so he can visit his online friend. sorry derseasterous thats the one time weve ever run into each other and i made him have a crush on one of his bandmates i was in my anti-daverose phase where i made dave a hoe and also didnt want to admit i still loved the ship all these years later 

i hate it so much but you know the whole vr loli trap voice shit that was popular a while ago? hes fucking baller at it for some reason. he did it as a joke while talking to bro and they both about shat their pants. if im feeling real ambitious, hes got a separate soundcloud solely dedicated to doing dumbass rap covers or making his own but in the voice under the pseudonym elizabeth “beth” davids that he will never admit is his. well, he will, but hes gonna be really fucking embarrassed about it. irony or not.

talking abt seperate soundclouds and stuff ive always had it where turntechGodhead was his like. essentially internet fucking persona facade shit he used because we all had that phase where we wanted memorable urls and stuff but also didnt want to totally ignore the nagging fear of people finding you in real life, until it turned into real life ppl finding you on the internet. so he also has basically an adjacent set of social media under the same name but its just a boring username i havent decided on so everyone he knows irl doesnt mix up with what hes made for himself as TG and the people he knows as TG dont know what highschool he goes to. (this occasionally comes with the territory of ppl on parp being pissed that daves “lying” or “hiding things” from his friends as if he was doing it out of spite instead of just keeping embarrassing tagged photos and videos from football games or when he ate shit at the skatepark from fucking with his “rap career”)

every once in a while i get on a kick where hes just german. like, i just replace houston texas with hamburg germany and have him apply to a university in whatever state is applicable for whoever im chatting with and it goes from there? sometimes he moved when he was little and went through the whole visa thing, sometimes he didnt go through the visa thing, sometimes hes a dual citizen because of family and shit, its all dependent on what suits the situation best. 

one that ive been fucking with for a while but hardly break out (until recently with like 5 roses in the span of one day hell yeah) is that he has a neighbor at the end of the hall who is like a thousand year old witch lady that hes basically adopted as his mother figure in lieu of not having one and shes totally cool with it, especially bc when she kicks the bucket she fully plans on giving dave all her occult stuff so her figure-skating coach and realtor daughter doesnt sell it at a garage sale and lets it all go to waste. she also once brought rose up by name in a conversation without any prompting of her existence which dave didnt realize for days, and then one time cryptically stopped and stared at an empty space in the wall, went “she has potential, you know.” then looked at him sitting on her kitchen counter with a smile “lots of it” and hes thought about that weekly ever since. (it is important to note one of the occult items he leaves her is literally her own personal book of shadows shes been filling out for decades its like a 600 page leatherbound book dave has no idea what its used for but the sheer amount of homemade spells and etc in it is like. gonna murder rose the second this chick gets her hands on it i promise you.)

theres the standard strife shit? im not rlly gonna get into those theyre all basically cookie cutter bullshit. its just standard bro and dave abuse talk. i like to inclulde the whole 24hr live cam up in the apartment that definitely watches dave in every room besides his own and the bathroom, but that quickly delves into the prospect of middle-aged men stalking him online and basically sexually harassing him in his own god damn home by talking about how they can see him just trying to take his shoes off in the living room after getting home and frankly? its not one of my best takes! but once you throw it into the headcanon bin, its there forever. 

he actually really does do something with his photography but not enough to warrant anything exciting, but he has his own branding for it and regularly takes pictures of his friends or anything else he thinks is moderately interesting enough to take pictures of, but those are just thrown into shoeboxes under his bed in favor of posting genuine shots because he wants to keep his image intact and blurry photos of jade smiling in the tree they climbed up together while bec paws at the base of it while whining isnt exactly something he wants the whole world to see.

i also pretty often but him into either paleontology OR i put him down as trying to become a mortician because he thinks handing roadkill once he graduated from museum giftshop specimens to doing his own taxidermy on the side has prepared him enough to perform an occasional autopsy and start embalming real human corpses. (sometimes i put my own desires in and make them his bc i have to project at some point and put him through the same EMT course i dropped out of bc it was one semester and he already has pretty decent first aid skills, but he definitely didnt expect it to be as fucking wild at times as it is, but whats he gonna do? get a job back at waffle house? the company hes working for just offered to pay like half his associates in paramedicine tuition and hes already got all his pre-recs done when he started for paleo. at least its a stable job and hes got the ability to be compassionate in the moment) 

im running out of things that ive done to the poor kid. OH 

hes not a virgin he had a girlfriend all four years of high school (shes also one of his optional and designated exes plz keep up) and their relationship ends in one of two ways: she dies in a car accident a week before their high school graduation, or she stops talking to him entirely a week after their high school graduation until a couple years later she gets into (guess what) a car accident with her current wife/girlfriend and dies which leaves behind their daughter. who just so happens to also be daves daughter. her name is hannah and i love her like my own but no one ever likes her and thats on the conditioning of dirk. does dave end up taking her in? yes. shes awesome and the first time he takes her to the park to like run off some fucking steam she disappears for two minutes and dave is moderately terrified until she comes back holding a dead baby squirrel and thats the moment he realizes huh maybe things really do be genetic.

ok at the bottom of the list im gonna add the couple of times hes been a camboy which usually coincides with the live apartment cam thing and the amount of people in his dms calling him hot or whatever, but typically its more of a started the day he turned 18 and basically dipped around 20 in favor of showing up randomly with no warning to complain about a video game dick in hand because it gives him an outlet that wont annoy his friends bc this is the fifteenth time hes had a lot to say this week about a certain boss battle and also the comments fuel his ego and daddy issues.

the last one wasnt the bottom but literally unless its explicitly proven otherwise every time anyone rps with me there is the underlying fact dave strider was a goalie on his high school lacrosse teams all four years and (shocker another one) definitely had the hots for one of his teammates like major hots like first gay experience hots. like it was painfully obvious that teammate also liked him back hots. like one night at a team sleepover one of the other guys was like can yall just makeout and get it over with were fucking tired and dave really had the balls to be offended and ask what the fuck they were talking about while literally sitting halfway in the mans lap bc for some reason they had to share the same chair. 

he is also guilty until proven innocent of being the worlds biggest loner outside of that sports team and even though hes literally a jock he still opts to eat his lunch alone in the hallway or something like that and has a tendency to leave girls on read, but bc hes got an in with the rest of the jocks hes basically drug around to plenty of parties and since hes conventionally attractive enough and popular in the aloof way that he is, hes got plenty of tagged insta posts and twitter directs and snapchat streaks going. 

THESE WERE ALL NO GAME AND DONT INVOLVE SHIPS BC I LIKE TO KEEP MY OPTIONS OPEN AND THEYRE LITERALLY ALL BASED OFF RPS IVE DONE I HOPE YALL JUDGE ME ACCORDINGLY

[missingvamps]

// monster //

I don't know yet if I am going to write another part or not but i just had this idea in my head... plus i am sorry if there are some typos x

***

"Wait... What?" Roger yells. "You are breaking up with me? After everything we've been through? Are you just gonna throw it all away?"

You take one step back. Your eyes are starting to fill with tears. You knew it would be hard to break up with your boyfriend after four years but it just didn't feel right anymore. Of course there was a time when you were in love with Rog, he was your first love after all. But it was back at high school, when you had no idea what real love was. Now you could see your whole life ahead of you. Without Roger by your side.

"Rog," you whisper and turn your back to him. You can't face him like this. You can't keep looking at him when he's so furious.

"Why... Tell me just why,'' Roger’s breathing gets heavy and his mind is filled with possible reasons behind this breakup. No matter how hard he's trying to figure this out, he does not understand why would Y/N want to split up with him. There must be only one true reason and Roger's eyes are full of hate as it all clicks in his head. He spits out the words with anger: "Is there somebody else? Did you replace me?"

You don't say anything. Now you're crying loudly and you do not bother to wipe away those tears that are falling like crazy. You just want this day to be over. You just want to leave this house and this boy behind and never look back.

"Answer me!" Roger yells again and takes you into his arms, not wanting to let go.

He loves you, he can't lose you. If he loses you, then he'll lose himself as well. You are his light that shines in the dark, you're his sunshine after cloudly days, you're his hope when he's hopeless.

You are shaking in his arms as you're trying to free yourself from his grip. You did not know this side of Roger and right now you are horrified. Even though this thought has never crossed your mind before, but right now you're scared Roger could actually hurt you.

"I... love... you," Roger confesses softly. He looks into your eyes, trying to find a sign that you do love him as well. But you only look away and he knows well that everything is pointless. He lost you. Forever.  

Roger doesn't bother with you anymore, he takes his jacket and runs out of the house. He jumps into his car and hit the road, not really paying attention where exactly he's going. He might have been driving for hours when he finds himself parking the car in front of "The Last Drop". He has no idea where he is, but this pub seems like the right place to be at the moment.

When he comes inside, he's happy to see that there are only few people in the pub. He sits in one corner where not many people could see him and he orders big beer with couple of shots of vodka.  

Since the argument with you, he can't stop thinking about what happened. He lost you, the love of his life. He feels empty. It's like a part of him died. Usually, in moments when he feels totally useless, he calls you because you knew what words to say to make him feel better.

But who should he call now, when the only person who made him happy is the reason behind his grief?

He takes the first shot, to make the pain go away.

He has no one else beside you. He thinks of your first meeting, your first date, your first kiss. Your relationship wasn't always perfect and you sometimes had their downs, like any other couple. But you two never had a serious fight and he would never think there would be a day when you would actually leave him.

He takes another shot, trying to erase the image of you from his mind. He shakes his head, cloeses his eyes but all he sees is you. He sees your laughing when he told you one of his stupid jokes, he sees you asleep on the couch as you were trying to wait for him when he came home later, he sees you in his shirt making pancakes on Sunday morning.  

With another shot he hopes to forget about you. He does not want to think of you and he does not want to remember anything about you. You broke up with him and that broke him. He takes another shot of vodka and he does not feel like crying anymore, he does not feel sorry for himself. Instead, he's mad: at you, at himself, at the world, at everyone.  

"Go to hell," he mumbles when he drinks sixth or seventh shot. He lost the count and the whole pub turned into a blurry picture. He gets up but his legs somehow do not listen to him. He has no idea how he pays for all the drinks and how he walks to his car. After couple of minutes, he finally ends up in his car and when he turns up some music, he realizes that tears are streaming down his face. He was trying to hold on, but the pain is stronger than himself. He cries and cries and it seems like he will never be able to stop.

His vision is still blurry, not only from all the drinks he had but from his own tears as well. But he just does not care about anything as he starts his car. He knows he is not in a right state to drive, but he has nothing to lose anymore.

Soon, he's on the road and he tries to remember the way back to the city but he has not a slightest idea which way to go. But he's happy to drive, he loved driving since he's got his driving licence. Driving and listening to music was sometimes his way of escape. He knows he's a good driver but still, he's surprised that he is able to drive even though he's totally wasted. To him, it feels like driving when he is sober.

On the next crossword, he turns right and out of nowhere, he notices a person trying to cross the road to the other side. Roger tries to slow down, but he knows it's too late. In full speed, he crashes into the person who is thrown on the other side like a doll. The numb body is immediately covered in blood and there is some blood on the glass of Roger's car as well.

It takes him few seconds to realize what's just happened. It was like all the alcohol got away and he was back to his senses again. He just hit a person. He knows that the crash was ugly and that person needs help. But he does not bother to get off the car. Instead, he starts the engine again and drives away, away from that someone who Roger might or might not have just killed.

***

just let me know what you think, i will be grateful x 

[lxme-xss-imxgines]

lost & found // BTS

Prompt: mafia/gang finds your wallet n sees ur broke as hell 

Pairing: BTS x reader, turning into ot7 fic 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: swearing and suggestiveness(?)

A/n: hope y’all like this:)

Intro Part One Part Two Part Three

Lisa stands next to you, staring at the box in disbelief.

“I mean, money was one thing,” she mutters. “But clothes? Specifically for you, even. I think I’m gonna count myself out and say you have some sort of secret admirers. Plural.”

You roll your eyes at her as she takes a seat on the couch,”Not even the weirdest part. They’re all in my size. How would they know that?”

She shrugs,”You know what they say-”

“I know, I know. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I suppose . . . it just weirds me out that someone would spend so much money on me. And for no reason,” you cross your arms, staring at the items splayed on the table.

“Not to call us out or anything, but we’re not very well endowed with money. And after all, the first thing that they returned was your wallet with a wad of cash.”

For some reason, something clicks when Lisa says this. Suddenly you feel stupid, like you should have connected the dots sooner.

“I left my wallet on the table at the cafe, Lis,” she just nods, waiting for you to continue. “I left it there and you know who the only ones to walk in after us were?”

Lisa’s eyes widen with realization, understanding where you were going with this,”Those mysterious men. You don’t think-”

“I don’t know. Would that be crazy?” by now you’re pacing, trying to decide whether or not this whole situation is plausible. I mean, it makes sense, right?

“Maybe - “

“We should just ignore it?”

Lisa is silent after your suggestion. She then looks at you, letting out a small sigh,”I mean, it’s not really causing harm is it? Even if it is them? And who knows, maybe they were just sending one last gift. I wouldn’t think on it too much, hun.”

You nod, agreeing with her in a sense. What’s the harm from a wad of cash and some clothes, right? No reason to stress over some gifts.

However, this soon became a problem you couldn’t ignore.

It was nice at first - cash every once in awhile, clothes (even some for Lisa, which she was very excited about), and that was all nice.

And then it got slightly more obnoxious by the week.

The packages had progressed from small boxes with cash or clothes to nice furniture and even appliances. They even got you the most recent Macbook to help with your college classes, replacing the one you’ve had for years.

You felt odd, because any other person wouldn’t mind the showering of gifts for no other reason than your financial situation, but you couldn’t help feel a pang of guilt upon receiving each  of these gifts.

The anonymous sender doesn’t know anything about you and had no reason to be so giving. You suddenly felt as if you only had one option - to contact them.

Of course, you don’t think you could very well contact them without information, even with your suspicion of their identities.

What’s the best way to find someone? The internet, of course.

You almost want to laugh at yourself, using the laptop you were given to try and for sure detect who this generous person - or people - may be.

So, you type the first thing that comes into your head - ‘BTS Seoul’

Your jaw almost drops to the floor at the results.

Things such as:

Wanted

Gang

Murders

True identities unknown

Police close cold case of nightclub shooting

No leads on notorious “Bangtan Boys (BTS)

However, none of those is what alarms you the most. Giving into your curiosity, you click over to the images and feel your heart leap out of your chest.

The picture was slightly blurry, but it was him.

It was a picture of the man you saw entering the cafe that night.

“They’ve only been coming for a month, and the owner told me that they’re allowed in no matter the time or circumstance. Luckily, they usually show up around the same time so I know when they’re going to be there”

You can feel the air leave your lungs, and your eyes flick up to the time and day on your laptop.

Wednesday 10:38

The same day and almost exact same time as when they showed up before.

You stand up immediately, rushing to slip on your shoes and jacket, and you’re outside of your apartment in under a minute.

Lisa is going to let a bunch of gang members into our local cafe. Very generous gang members, but gang members nonetheless.

You needed to get to there. Now.

For her sake and yours.

***

The entire ten minute walk - more like jog - to the cafe you felt your adrenaline rising more. You turn a corner and the cafe and suddenly in your sight, but you’re too late.

Their car is parked outside. And you didn’t run into Lisa on the way there, so that means she’s still there.

When you reach the building, you don’t think, you just act. You pull the door open, skidding to a halt when you see the scene before you.

The seven of them were around the largest table, each with a cup of some sort of drink in front of them - and they were all laughing. Not that you had expected them to have their guns out on the table and someone tied up to a chair or anything, but you especially didn’t expect Lisa to be serving them and laughing along.

You suddenly wish you could turn and walk away, but the bell attached to the door already let out a small noise, alerting everyone of your presence.

Anxiety fills from your toes to the top of your head when all eight people present turn to look at you, the laughter dying down quite suddenly.

You feel that your mouth is dry, so it comes out wrong when you try to speak,”Lisa, I need to talk to you.” You walk into the back of the cafe quickly, Lisa following you after muttering a small apology to the men. The gang.

“Y/n, what are you doing here? It’s kind of late-”

“Do they know, Lis? Did you tell them that I think it’s them?” your words come out with a frantic edge, taking Lisa aback slightly.

“No, I haven’t told them anything. What makes you think that?” you just shake your head, sighing of relief. She steps closer,”What is going on?”

“I was trying to figure out more about them, because I was feeling guilty and wanted to see if i could contact them, to thank them,” you swallow. “They are a gang, Lis.”

She just stares at you for a second, before letting out a little giggle. You stare at her in disbelief. Does she really not believe me?

“You think that those guys in there are in a gang?” now her laugh is slightly fuller,”They are completely harmless. And handsome, might I add.”

“Do you think I’m joking?” you roll your eyes. “Fine, I’ll prove it,” before she can protest, you make your way back out to the front.

You’re almost startled by their complete silence and stone-like expressions. You swallow, approaching their table quietly. As if sensing your presence, they all turn to face you.

Ah fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You open your mouth to speak, but are cut off by one of the men.

“Took you long enough,” one with dark hair and an unamused stare begins to speak. “We were beginning to think we weren’t ever going to meet.”

You’re taken aback by his crude comment,”Excuse me?”

Another one with dimples and purple hair begins to speak,”I’m sorry, what Yoongi means is that we’ve been hoping you would make contact with us.”

You’re at a loss for words and have so many questions at the same time. You’re so caught up in the conversation you didn’t even notice Lisa’s inherent shock at the possible truth.

“Why?” is the only word you can muster. “Why me? And don’t say because you pity my financial situation. I have a feeling a gang doesn’t just up and start being generous to random college students. Especially in the way you have.”

A few smirks break out, along with some shocked expressions at your bluntness.

“Well,” purple hair starts again,”Truth is . . . “

“We want you. Simple as that,” a rather pretty one begins speaking,”I’m Jimin, by the way.” he sends you a wink along with a smile, and you can feel heat rise into your cheeks.

“O-oh, I, um-”

“It’s okay to be nervous, or even a little scared. Just know we wouldn’t hurt you. Ever,” another one speaks and you nod at him in response; his soft eyes have an odd calming effect on you.

“You don’t even know me,” you protest, completely forgetting about their inherent gang status at the moment. “But yet you want me? All of you?” the true meaning of that phrase suddenly crosses your mind, and you wonder how that would even work. One for each day of the week? You hold back a snort at your own thought.

“I think we both know that knowing each other isn’t a concern,” Yoongi, you presume, begins. “And if you don’t understand that, you will. You’re ours.”

His words send shivers down your spine.

“Hyung, could you please stop being so forward? You’re going to scare her,” a dirty blonde headed man protests, staring at him with annoyance.

“There’s no point in lying, Taehyung. She was ours the first day she made eye contact with me.”

“Are you going to continue bragging about that one time, Jungkook? Or will we actually-”

A small ringing noise reverberates through the air, pulling everyone’s attention to the door - only for them to see you have exited.

“Good going, Yoongi,” Taehyung rolls his eyes, slouching back into his seat.

“Wait,” Lisa suddenly speaks, and they all turn toward her,”So you guys are actually a gang?”

The boys just sigh and chuckle lowly.

[eternallyyoungjustice]

Wherever the Winds Take You: Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the short delay, y’girl got herself concussed the other day by just sitting in class. As always, the translations are down below.

Hope y’all enjoy!

The sound of applause filled the canvas walls, roars and enthusiastic cheers soaring through the air and embracing the collection of people in the center of the huge, circular tent. Even through her earplugs, Lina could hear the noise clearly. But it was different from most other loud noises, this didn't hurt her as much.

The stands were full, that much was obvious even though they were darkened by the shadows cast on by the bright, colourful stage lights that hung over the center. Lina couldn't even see many of the faces in the crowds from her spot high up, perched up on the aerial hoop. But the faces she could make out were grinning from ear-to-ear as they gazed at the performers in front of them.

Lina took a deep breath, the smell of plastic, sweat, and greasy circus food flooding her senses, the hot beams of the lights overhead only adding onto her sweat from the last performance. The weight of the heavy stage makeup, her callused fingers gripping the metal of the hoop, the material of her costume.

All of it, the most beautiful feeling in the world to the fourteen year old girl.

Looking straight up, Lina saw her mother-the beauty that she was-showing off her pearly white teeth as she beamed up at the audience, even blowing them kisses from her perch. Sitting on the top of the hoop, only secured by her grip on the cable that it hung from, wasn't the safest position for Véronique, but she was rarely one to care about that sort of thing.

Sensing her daughter's gaze, the older woman glanced down and hazel eyes met blue as the mother-daughter duo made eye-contact.

��Smile wide at your audience, ma Papillon.” Véronique smiled to her daughter. “Aimez-les autant qu'ils tu aimes.”

Nodding, Lina did as instructed and widened her grin to the stands below. Even blowing a kiss or two to them, matching her mother.

As the applause slowly died out, people beginning to file out of the tent, the performers gradually stopped waving and relaxed. The smiles and joy did not dissipate in the slightest from the performers’ faces however, everyone too happy at the well-done show.

“Benny, a little lower if you could.” Véronique yelled behind her at the rigging men. On cue, the hoop the two women were on slowly began to lower towards the ground. The elder of the two leapt off as soon as they reached a reasonable height, but Lina remained sitting for a while longer until she was met with the familiar face of one Russian strongman.

“You were marvelously vpechatlyayushchiy, Ms. Lina.” Mateo smiled as he extended his arms. Lina smiled and nodded, letting the man perch her on his broad shoulders.

“Spasibo, Mateo.” Lina replied, smiling down at the mountain of a man below her. “You were spectacular as well.”

“Anyone with some meat on their bones can do what I do.” The strongman handwaved, gently squeezing the knee he held to balance the girl on his shoulders. “It takes great talent to do what you and your Mat do.”

“Are you spoiling my daughter again Mateo?” Véronique asked, walking up beside them. “Vy idete, chtoby poluchit' yeye zavisimost', chtoby pokhvalit', yesli vy prodolzhayete.”

“Apologies Madam,” Mateo smiled, looking at the woman, and then up at the girl again, “but I don't believe that would be completely unwarranted.”

“Not to mention she more than deserves high-praise tonight.” The kind voice of Markus said as he snuck up behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her costume-covered waist and pulling her into a backwards embrace. Véronique smiled coyly as she melted into her husband's body. “Just as Ma Ange does.”

Even though Véronique rolled her eyes, the smile, accompanied by her lovingly pulling her husband into a passionate kiss showed that she was more than pleased by his words.

“Lina! Lina!” The high-pitched boys voice met the girl's ears and she perked up to see Leo, accompanied not far behind by Calvin, running up to his family. Mateo, deciding to let the family speak and begin on his cleaning duties, gently placed Lina down on the ground, patted her head gently, and walked away.

“Did you see me up there with Orion?” The ten-year-old Leo exclaimed as he ran up to his older sister. Tonight had been Leo's turn to help with the lion act, his favorite act to help with.

Indeed, having an act named 'The young Leo and the terrifyingly terrific lions’ was amusing to say the least.

“I did, I'm surprised Cortez and Julien actually let you take him out of the ring. The children certainly loved it.” Lina laughed.

“Orion's old and the most well-mannered.” Leo shrugged. “But it was so cool! You did see it, right? Like, the whole thing? Even the m-””She said she saw it, you clown. Calme-toi.”

Calvin's interruption earned him a stuck-out-tongue from his little brother.

“Patrick, Mickey, and Ester are cool; so I'm taking ‘clown’ as a compliment!” Leo huffed in retort, earning a small chuckle from his older siblings.

“Touché.” Calvin smiled, shrugging. Then he turned to Lina, and she noticed that he was still wearing the charcoal-coloured face paint across his eyes that was meant to look like a mask. The black accentuating his blue orbs. “You want to go greet the adoring public? Do the old we're-siblings-and-therefore-adorable shtick?”

“Candy floss does sound nice, I wonder if we can get some from Mia.” Lina nodded, and the three of them began making their way to the opening the public had just exited out from.

“Be safe!” Markus called after his children.

“Oh please, we're always safe.” Calvin smirked.

“Says the fire-eater about the aerialist and the lion-tamer?” Leo snorted, causing the other two to laugh.

“Time runs short.” The sudden burst of pain caused Lina to freeze, grabbing onto her head as it erupted into pain.

Where had that voice come from?

“You must awaken!” As the voice returned, Lina tensed even more, curling into herself.

“You must awaken now!”

Zephyr's eyes flew open as she gasped for breath.

The first thing to hit her was the light. Dim and white, it hurt her eyes and made her wish she could go back to being unconscious. Despite the light burning through to her brain, Zephyr kept her eyes open and looked around at her surroundings. She couldn’t make out much, but she could feel that she was bound tightly by her wrists above her head, her wrists encased in a thick metal. She also realized that she was encased in some kind of glass cocoon, causing the area outside to gleam and appear blurry.

But most of all, what struck Zephyr was the pounding pain that ran through her head.

“Where am I?” Her groggy thoughts mentally asked. “What happened?”

Then she remembered.

The tour of the Hall, Speedy quitting, the secrets and lies being revealed, her, Aqualad, Kid Flash, and Robin running out to Cadmus; the Genomorphs, Superboy, Superboy attacking them…

Zephyr held back a groan as the memories flooded back. She must have been out for a couple hours, that’s why the lights hurt her so much. Her medication was beginning to wear out.

Forcing herself to open her eyes again, she looked through the glass walls to see her comrades beside her; Aqualad to her right, and Kid Flash and Robin to her left. All of them in similar glass pods with their wrists bound by the metal latches. Every one of them seemed groggy. In front of all of them however, Zephyr was surprised to see an emotionless Superboy standing, staring at all of them.

“W-what? What do you want?” Kid Flash suddenly yelled at the clone, apparently much more awake. “Quit staring...you’re creeping me out!”

“Uh, Kid…” Robin interjected, voice groggy, “how about we not tick off the guy who can fry us with a look?”

Superboy didn’t react to either boy’s words, simply continuing to stare emotionlessly at the heroes.

“We only sought to help you-” Aqualad began, but was quickly cut off by a still angry Kid Flash.

“Yea, we free you and you turn on us, how’s that for gra-””Kid.” Aqualad cut off this time, his tone commanding and stern. “Please, be quiet now. I believe our friend was not in full control of his actions.”

“What if I-” Superboy caused, his voice raspy from obviously never using it before. “What if I wasn’t?”

“He can talk?” Kid Flash exclaimed, sounding utterly surprised.

Superboy did not seem to take too kindly to this, clenching his fist at his side. “Yes, he can.”

The ginger speedster received looks from each of his friends, Zephyr even muttering a “really?”.

“What? It’s not like I said ‘it’!” KF justified.

Aqualad turned back to the boy in question. “The Genomorphs taught you telepathically?”

“They taught me much.” Superboy replied. “I can read, write...I know the names of things.”

“But these things that you have learned of, have you actually experienced them?” Zephyr asked. “Have you ever been able to see the sky? The sun? Have you ever known a life outside of your pod?”

“Images are implanted in my mind, but...no. I have not seen them.” Superboy lowered his head, troubled by this.

“Do you know what you are? Who you are?” Aqualad asked.

“I am the Superboy, a Genomorph. A clone made from the DNA of the Superman. Created to replace him should he perish...to destroy him should he turn from the light.”

A chill simultaneously ran through each of the teenager’s spines as Kid Flash, Zephyr, and Robin all looked to each other with looks of shock. Aqualad however, pushed forward.

“To be like Superman is...a worthy aspiration. But like Superman, you deserve a life of your own.” The Atlantean explained. “Beyond that solar-suit, beyond your pod, beyond Cadmus.”

“I live because of Cadmus! It is my home!”

“Your ‘home’ is a test-tube.” Robin reasoned.

“We can give you the life and experiences you have been denied, the life you deserve.” Zephyr explained, putting her strength into giving the boy a small smile. “We can show you the beautiful world outside. The Earth, the sky, the sun-”

“Uh, pretty sure it’s after midnight…” Wally interjected. “But we can show you the moon.”

“We can show you, introduce you, to Superman.”

Just as a look of hope began to make its way into Superboy’s face, and the teenagers began to believe that they may have managed to accomplish their mission, a new voice entered the room.

“No, they can’t.” The door opened to reveal Guardian, the woman scientist that Kid Flash and Zephyr had literally knocked into, and a new figure: a greasy-looking man wearing a white lab coat, his face aged and his long hair pulled into a ponytail. All three of them had a Genomorph-gnome on their shoulder. “They’ll be...otherwise occupied. Activate the cloning procedure.”

“Pass, Batcave's crowded enough.” Robin remarked.

The other teens were a little astounded that the young boy could joke about an non-consensual cloning procedure. However, the scientist didn't even pay the Boy Wonder's remark any mind.

“And get the weapon back in it's pod!” The man ordered.

“Hey, how come he gets to call Supey an 'it’?” Kid Flash exclaimed, earning him a disapproving look from Zephyr.

As Guardian walked over to Superboy, the clone looked over to Aqualad. As a last resort, the Atlantean returned his gaze with a pleading one.

“Help us.”

In response, and to many people's surprise, Superboy shrugged off Guardian's hand.

However, the small victory was short-lived as the scientist walked over to the clone, a look of irritation on his face.

“Don't start thinking now!” The scientist's Genomorph-gnome hopped onto Superboy's shoulder, and the boy's eyes glazed over. “See, you're not a real boy, you're a weapon. And you belong to me-well-to Cadmus. Same thing. Now get back to your pod!”

Not another moment after, Superboy robotically walked out of the room.

Before any of the teenagers could process the loss of their only hope however, they were soon distracted by mechanical arms, attached with four needle-like tips, coming out of the ground. Each of them fought, pulling against their restraints, but to no avail.

The needles plunged into each of their chests, accompanied by raging shocks of electricity as blood drained from each of the heroes bodies. Above their own groans and screams, each of the teens could hear those of their comrades.

Blood rushing, throat becoming sore as screams scratched their vocal chords, muscles on fire, tears welling up in eyes. Each one of the young heroes could feel these, but they were drowned out by over-arching blistering pain that sparked through their bodies for what seemed like several eternities.

Zephyr could vaguely hear the screaming voices of her Winds, but the pain and her brain's oversensory of it caused the elemental cries to become muffled and mixed in with her own screams, and those of her friends.

The others however, vaguely heard something else entirely. The sound of the male scientist saying “delete the source material”.

Just as the teens felt they were about to pass out again, loud banging sounds and the sound of tearing metal filled the room and the electric shocks came to pass.

“I told you to get back to your-” the scientist was unable to finish as he was met with Superboy's fist, sending the older man into a nearby wall.

“Don't give me orders.” Superboy growled.

“Are you here to help us…” Kid Flash asked nervously as the clone turned to face them “or fry us?”

Superboy's eyes narrowed and he stared at the ginger for a long, pregnant pause. Then he eased up, a trace of a smile pulling at his lips. “I don't seem to have heat-vision so I guess helping is my only option.”

“Y-you're...joking, right?” Zephyr asked, still out of breath. Her tone laced with mild worry. But she never got an answer as Robin suddenly jumped out of his pod, rubbing his wrists.

“Finally! Lucky Batman isn't here, he'd have my head for taking this long.” The Boy Wonder said victoriously.

“Dude, that's what you're worried about? The whole League'll have our heads after tonight!”

“I quite like my head…” Zephyr muttered sleepily, but it was so low that she didn't think anyone heard her. A moment later when she realized her words, she shook her head.

As the young girl looked up, she was quick to notice that one of the pillars on one side of the room had toppled over, presumably during their shocking as she hadn't noticed it before. “W-what…?”

Robin walked over to the computer and began typing, making the needles retract and the glass doors of the pods open. “Free Aqualad and Zephyr.” Robin told Superboy. “I'll get Kid Mouth.”

“Don't you give me orders either!” Superboy snarled, but did as he was told nonetheless. Rushing over to Aqualad first and breaking the metal shackles, catching the Atlantean as he sagged over, then doing the same to Zephyr. Although the latter shuffled forward uneasily, she caught herself.

“Thank you…” Aqualad muttered to Superboy, a grateful smile gracing his features.

As the two had their moment, Zephyr reached for the hidden compartment on her left thigh, just at her hip. But as she pulled out the syringe full of translucent blue liquid, Superboy suddenly stepped back, alert.

“Calme-toi.” Zephyr mumbled, pursing her lips as she rolled up the loose sleeve of her cape-fleece and injected the syringe into her bloodstream. “If we're going to get out of here, I'm going to need to be able to work properly.”

“That wasn't ‘working properly’?” Kid Flash exclaimed, pointing to the fallen column. Zephyr frowned, even as the liquid running through her began to dull any pain she felt.

Before she could ask what he meant however, the male scientist moving caught all the teen's attention and they began making their way towards the now ripped apart door.

“Y-you'll never get out of here!” The crazed scientist yelled after them. “I'll have you back in pods by morning!”

Robin, before crossing the threshold, stopped to pull a handful of birdarangs out from his utility belt. “That guy is not whelmed, not whelmed at all.”

“What is it with you and his ‘whelmed’ thing?” Kid Flash asked as the Boy Wonder threw his projectiles, and the two continued to exit the chamber.

The group of five ran through hallway after hallway, climbing up a few levels. This time, they were actually able to stay together, but not very long after their escape the group began to notice that strange-looking patches on the walls around them began to glow red.

“We’re still 42 levels below ground, but if we can make the elevator…”

Sadly Aqualad’s plan came to a screeching halt when the same kind of mammoth-esk genomorphs from earlier cut off the teens’ only path to their escape. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the glowing patches began to tear open like shell-less eggs to reveal the cat-like creatures that the group had encountered with Guardian.

Aqualad, Robin, Zephyr, and Kid Flash managed to find their way around the mammoths, doing their best to climb/leap/fly over them, but Superboy took a different approach as he leapt up to punch one of the giants the face, only to be promptly smashed to the ground by another’s fist.

“Superboy!” Aqualad yelled out. “The goal is escape, not to bury ourselves here!”

“You want escape?!” Superboy screamed back, seemingly in madness, and with a following burst of rage he threw one of the giant creatures into the wall besides him.

Deciding to use the distraction to their advantage, the remaining heroes ran over to the elevator door and Aqualad pried them open once again. Looking up, the mere sight of the seemingly never-ending levels shook the teens, but they carried through.

Zephyr looked to Kid Flash who nodded and held onto her shoulders as she summoned Winds to lift them off into the air. Robin triggering his grappling hook, all just in time for Superboy to join them; apparently done fighting with the genetically-modified mammoths. The clone grabbed onto Aqualad and leapt, making it a good few stories before his ascent slowed down, then stopped.

“I’m...I’m falling.”

Startled, Zephyr managed to catch the two falling boys with some more Winds, but strained under the weight.

“Reaching full carrying capacity…” Zephyr growled through gritted teeth. Thankfully, Robin threw a Birdarang onto the wall by Aqualad and Superboy and the former caught on, supporting both himself and Superboy and leaving Zephyr able to let go of them.

“Superman can fly...why can’t I fly?” Superboy asked, obviously dazed.

“Dunno, but looks like you can leap tall buildings in a single bound.” Wally shrugged, ever the optimist. “Still cool.”

The clone looked around at his new comrades and muttered a low “thank you”.

“Guys,” Robin called, directing everyone’s attention to him and the high-pitched rumbling of the elevator which was quickly approaching. “This will have to be our exit.”

Busting down the nearest door, the five escaped the shaft as the elevator zoomed by. This hallway, sub-level 15, was much more pleasing than sub-level 52, looking more like an office building with its wooden walls and normal, linear, white lights. However, the normalcy was soon interrupted by the cat-like Genomorphs flooding the opposite end, looking ready to fight the teenagers.

Not waiting for them to catch up, the group of five ran down the nearest corridor.

“Go left! Left!” Superboy suddenly yelled, and not having any better ideas, the others followed.

“Right!”

Unfortunately however, Superboy’s directions only managed to get them to a dead end. Faced with a simple wall with only an air-vent.

“Great directions Supey, you trying to get us re-poded?” Kid Flash exclaimed.

Superboy appeared confused, lost in thought. “No...I-I don’t understand…”

“Don’t apologize!” Robin cried out. “This is perfect!”

Looking to Zephyr, the young Boy Wonder motioned to the air-vent with a small smirk. “Ladies first.”

Smiling back at the young boy and nodding, Zephyr stepped forward and pulled up her hood, which had seemingly fallen down during the fight with Superboy. Extending her arm, the girl grabbed the Winds she could feel within the vent with a tight fist, and yanked back. Listening to their command, the Winds rushed forward; taking off the gate with them. Not wasting anymore time, Zephyr flew up and forward through the vent, turning to lift Robin and Kid Flash up with her before Aqualad and Superboy jumped in after them, using their enhanced strength to make the leap themselves.

However, the small structure of the vent was only navigable if the teens crawled on all fours, which significantly slowed them down. KF didn’t seem overly partial to this, which he voiced after a few minutes.

“At this rate, we’ll never get out.”

“Sshhh.” Shushed Superboy. “Listen.”

However, none of the heroes could hear anything.

Until a moment later when the sounds of claws against metal made their way down the tunnel.

“Go! Go!” Aqualad exclaimed, and the group hurriedly scuffled as quickly as they could before turning to the nearest gate. This time using her foot, Zephyr kicked open the gate and jumped down, landing on the ground before being followed by her comrades.

Without missing a beat, Robin ran over to one of the hallway’s outlets and plugged it into his holo-computer. A moment later, he looked up to the others looking triumphant.

“I hacked the motion sensors.”

“Sweet!” Kid Flash grinned.

“Still plenty of them between us and out.” Robin explained.

“But I finally have room to move!” The speedster slid down his goggles and ran through a nearby door which lead into a stairwell, not even hesitating for a moment.

“Always has to run ahead.” Zephyr muttered with a small smile to Aqualad, who returned her smile for a moment before the group shot off like a bullet.

As the group caught up with their speedster, a group of Genomorphs made their way towards them. But Wally simply accelerated, knocking all of them down like bowling pins.

“More behind us!” Robin yelled out. Superboy, the tail of the group, stopped and peered down at the band of Genomorphs hurriedly climbing the stairs behind them. This was soon resolved as the clone stomped down onto the step below him, and the entire staircase crumbled to the ground.

After dashing up several more flights of stairs, the group finally found their way to the top and Kid Flash zipped through the door. When the rest of the group entered into the adjoined hallway however, they found the corridor flooded with red light and the speedster laying on the ground in front of a large metal door.

“We’re cut off from the street.” Aqualad exclaimed.

“Thanks, my head hadn’t noticed.” Kid Flash mumbled sarcastically in return.

Aqualad and Superboy ran over to the doors, attempting to pry it open with sheer force, and Robin pulled up his holo-computer to hack into it. But they were cut off by more creatures quickly approaching and all of them quit their efforts in favor of running through a nearby door.

Only to be cut off by a whole parade’s worth of Genomorphs of varying size and type, and at the center of it all: Guardian.

The teens tried to retract, tuning back to escape, but that was soon blocked off by more creatures as well.

They were forced to take a stand, Aqualad and Robin taking out weapons while the others took fighting stances.

But then, before anyone attacked from either side, the group was hit with a strong wave and everything went black.

“Evangelina, ma papillon, you need to wake up now.”

The familiar voice called out, but to Lina it was so distant and muffled.

“Mama?” Lina called out, her eyes were too heavy to lift but she knew she was lying down. On what, she could not decipher.

“It’s time to wake up, ma fille, you haven’t finished the show yet.”

“The...show?” Lina mumbled, the voice almost too muffled to understand what it was saying. “What show?”

“You know what show, Lina.” The voice replied, this time getting even more muffled and distant. “And you know you need to wake up.”

“Mama? Mama, what show?”

As Zephyr’s eyes finally opened, she was surprised to see that Superboy was the only one of the group that was standing. But as she looked around at the other partners, she was relieved to see that they were also awakening. As they all stood, Aqualad focused in on the hero in front of them.

“Guardian?”

“Go.” The black and blue-clad hero instructed. “I’ll deal with Desmond.”

“Desmond?” Zephyr whispered out of confusion.

“I think not.”

The Genomorphs split to reveal the male scientist from before, behind them.

“Oh, Desmond.” The air-manipulator realized, finally learning the scientist’s name.

The man held up a vile of pale blue-green liquid that seemed to glow in the darkness of the corridor.

“Project Blockbuster will give me the power to restore order to Cadmus.” The man grumbled, before downing the vile all in one gulp.

As the man keeled over onto the ground in pain, his body began to seize and twitch. Groans of pain filled the room and Zephyr moved to help the scientist, only to be stopped by Aqualad's arm, just as the man’s white lab coat shred to pieces, revealing his flesh which was slowly morphing into the colour of cement. The man raised his head to show the flesh of it was tearing apart, and revealed fully black eyes with red dots where his irises should be. As the man began to stand, most of his ripped skin and clothing fell off his body to reveal his new form: a ginormous creature with grey skin and the remains of human flesh hanging off of him.

“Everyone, back!” Guardian commanded before running at the new Desmond. He didn’t last long however as the creature batted him away like a fly, throwing the fully grown man into a wall.

Before anyone could think next, Superboy charged at the former scientist, his fist slamming into Desmond’s face before he was punched into the ground by the snarling beast. Superboy persisted however, jumping right back into it to deliver a strong uppercut to his opponent’s jaw, followed by a few more decent punches. But the boy’s assault was short-lived since when he tried to jump and deliver a diving attack, Desmond leapt up, surging through the clone and sending both of them through the ceiling; leaving a giant hole in their wake.

“Well, that’s one way to bust through the ceiling…” Robin shrugged, shooting off his grappling hook.

“You think Lab-Coat planned that?” Kid Flash asked, grabbing onto Robin as the two flew up.

“I doubt he is planning anything anymore.” Aqualad replied grimly, turning to a frowning Zephyr. Wordlessly grasping her shoulder with one webbed hand, the Atlantean held on as his partner gathered up her Winds and flew them up through the crater.

As soon as they landed however, the two of them were knocked down by Superboy being thrown into them.

As Robin and Kid Flash ran over to help the three of them back up, they regrouped; forming a line side-by-side as they faced off against the giant monster that wanted them dead.

Kid Flash ran off first, zipping towards the creature and then dashing through his legs to land on all fours, directly followed by Aqualad and Superboy punching Desmond in the jaw. The creature toppled over and tripped over Kid Flash, which sent him crashing into the ground.

“Learned that one in kindergarten.” The speedster grinned.

Flying overtop, Zephyr gathered as many Winds as she could, directing them across Desmond’s body before pushing them down to increase the gravity and pressure around the beast.

“Do everyone a favor and please, stay down!” The girl exclaimed.

With a loud growl however, Desmon slowly stood back up even as Zephyr anxiously tried to add more pressure around him.

Giving up just as he stood, the girl redirected her currents to around the creature’s head. Moving her hands in circles as the Winds followed, creating a sphere of air around his head. Desmon paused, unbalanced by the sudden lack of oxygen, but once again he overpowered her attack and swung his fist, sending Zephyr into the ground and knocking all the air out of her, causing her Winds to disperse.

Quickly regaining his composure, Desmond went after Superboy, grabbing him and crashing his body into a nearby column. As the monster kept decking the smaller boy, it seemed like he was trying to punch Superboy through the column. He was stopped however, when Aqualad used his water-bearers to form a whip and wrapped it around Desmond’s arm. The creature tried to grab onto the Atlantean, using the whip to yank him over, but Aqualad simply launched off of his face, using it as a spring-board and he reformed his whips into a spiked mace. Aqualad never landed his attack however, as he was promptly grabbed onto and punched into the floor.

To finish the onslaught, Desmond threw Superboy into another column, rubble falling onto the young boy's body.

Wally promptly ran up to try and help Aqualad, who Desmond had turned his attention to, but the ginger to was quickly snatched up. Aqualad tried to get back up, summoning back his spiked mace, but the two heroes were thrown away with nearly enough force to knock them out. Aqualad however, seemed to still hold Desmond’s attention as the creature attempted to crash the Atlantean’s body through the column by force.

Flying over to Robin, Zephyr fought back the impulse to run in and try to help the others despite knowing she wouldn’t be of much assistance.

“We need a plan, we’re getting killed!” The air-manipulator exclaimed.

“I do have an idea.” Robin said, pulling up a map of the room they were standing in on his holo-computer. He also called out to Kid Flash, summoning him over to them. As the speedster ran over, Robin began to explain. “You see these columns? They’re supportive, they help hold up the building.”

“Meaning if they come down, the building goes down with them!” Kid Flash added.

“Right, and if Desmond keeps at it the way he is…” Robin motioned to the creature, crumbling the column in front of him by swinging Superboy into it. “Got it?”

“Got it.” Kid Flash and Zephyr replied in unison.

“Go.”

Kid Flash ran up to Desmond, still brawling with Superboy, and leapt up. Making a blind grab, he clutched onto the first thing he could reach as the boy leapt in front of the creature’s face. Once he landed, KF realized that what he had grabbed was the piece of flesh that had once been Desmond’s nose.

“Got your nose!” The speedster exclaimed with a grin, and Desmond threw Superboy away and charged for the ginger, only for Zephyr to send a large gust of air towards him, causing him to lose his footing and turn to her.

“C’mon you...crétin.”

Desmond charged at her, only for Zephyr to swoop up at the last minute and use a strong air-slice to add to his force and send him crashing straight into the column that was behind her.

Zephyr heard Robin call Aqualad and Superboy over to explain their plan as Desmond shook off the damage, this time redirecting his fury to Kid Flash who appeared in front of the column across the way.

“Over here you incredible bulk!” He cried out, and Desmond came running at him to crash head-first into the supportive beam. However, KF was a little too slow and ended up getting hit by a small piece of rubble.

The hit slowing him down, Desmond was still able to readjust and head back straight to the speedster, going to slam his fists into the boy but thankfully, Zephyr was able to fly in and form an enforced bubble around them as a kind of forcefield.

“Zeph’, you’re an angel.” KF cried.

“But of course.” Zephyr replied, sending her teammate a friendly wink before thrusting her arms forward and sending the Winds that had made up the bubble straight into Desmond’s jaw, throwing him back.

As he staggered, Kid Flash grabbed Zephyr by the hand and raced them to safety. In their peripherals, they could see that Aqualad and Superboy were taking down the remaining columns.

“Here!” Everyone turned to see Robin motioning to an area closeby, which Aqualad quickly flooded over with water.

KF and Zephyr raced over to the pool, daring Desmond to come at them, and the monster complied. He charged at the two pieces of live bait, only to be knocked down by a strong punch by Superboy, which made him collapse right onto the water. Before he could get up, Aqualad charged up the electricity that flowed through his curling arm tattoos and lowered his hands in the water, electrifying it with a single touch. The shock raced through the water and into Desmond, electrocuting him as he let out a loud howl of pain.

“Move!” Robin cried, and as the sounds of his exploding birdarangs charging up filled the air, all of the teenagers gathered together. Not a moment later, the room was filled with the fire and rubble of the following explosions. As the building crashed down around them, the team of five tried to dash out. But they were too slow, and the debris collapsed on top of them. At the last minute, Zephyr summoned her Winds again and formed a bubble around her five all of them.

Once the falling rocks had settled and the smoke cleared, Zephyr threw out her currents, tossing the clutter that had fallen onto it in the process. As the weight she had just carried sunk into her muscles, she staggered back into Aqualad who caught her and helped her stay standing even though he, along with everyone else, was panting heavily and crouched over in pain.

“We...did it?” Aqualad said through huffs of air, his statement clouded with disbelief.

“Was there...ever any doubt?” Robin gasped back. He and Kid Flash high-fived in victory, only for the impact to strike their most-certainly broken ribs and they let out a groan of pain.

“None in the...slightest.” Zephyr laughed, rubbing her side which felt like it was on fire.

Superboy took a step towards the now-unconscious Desmond, the creature’s body covered in rubble. He seemed lost in thought, but that was stopped when Kid Flash called his attention back.

“Look, the moon.” The speedster motioned up to the sky, where the moon sat so big and full that it almost looked fake. Superboy’s eyes glazed over as he stood there, peering up at the moon with absolute awe.

But then, the moon’s image was interrupted as a small black dot appeared in front of it. As the dot got closer, it appeared to a humanoid figure wearing a cape, quickly descending from the skies and towards the teenagers. As it got closer to them, the very familiar features came into view.

“Oh...and Superman! Do we keep our promises or what?”

As Superman got even closer, he was joined by more and more people. Every Leaguer was there, standing on the edge of the crater that had once been a genetics lab; gazing down at the teenagers with mostly unreadable expressions. You could almost hear the horns in the background, regally announcing their presence.

“We are in so much trouble…” Zephyr muttered.

As everyone saw Superman’s eyes make their way to the unknown teenager amongst the protégés, Superboy stepped forward. Pulling up the scrap of his solar suit that had ripped during the battle, and proudly showcased the famous ‘s’ shield. The same shield that was imprinted on Superman’s chest.

As to be expected, Superman appeared shocked at the new discovery. But what was not to be expected, and what seemed to deeply anger the younger Kryptonian, was the firm look that moved over his features not a moment later. A cold look that seemed to pass right through Superboy as if he wasn’t even there.

“Is that what I think it is?” Batman asked out loud.

“He doesn’t like being called an it…” Kid Flash cringed.

“And he has a name.” Zephyr added, following KF in stepping beside Superboy.

“I’m Superman’s clone!”

Superboy’s sudden exclamation shocked every Justice Leaguer as they fell at ease to look at one another in confusion.

The area was flooded with silence, an awkward one full of tension that nobody in the proximity wanted to be a part of. Until, that is, Batman cut in.

“Start talking.”

‘Aimez-les autant qu'ils tu aimes’: roughly, “Love them as much as they love you”

‘vpechatlyayushchiy’: Russian for very “impressive/spectacular”

‘Spasibo’: Russian for “thank you”

‘Mat’: Russian for “mother”

‘Vy idete, chtoby poluchit' yeye zavisimost', chtoby pokhvalit', yesli vy prodolzhayete’: roughly, “you will get her addicted to oriaee if you keep this up”

‘Ma Ange’: French term of endearment, meaning 'My Angel’

‘crétin’: French for “cretin”

[fmdnamwoo]

✘ deadly dull

synopsis: this basically describes in great length how namwoo deals with the progression of his grandmother’s disease post-debut (aka anything after what’s mentioned in his bio); alternatively: a collection of memories of his family from 2012 to 2019 word count: 2806 warnings: Alzheimer’s disease is mentioned in name or symptoms a lot, brief allusions to death (though no one’s died yet)

April 2012 When Namwoo calls home the first time after his official broadcast debut, his grandmother tells him she has food on the stove. Dakgaejang – his favorite. Her voice and the mental images her words conjure up paired with the mix of elation and utter exhaustion he carries underneath his skin are almost enough to make him tear up, so he gladly allows her do most of the talking while he only hums at appropriate times to let her know he's still listening; he always is. Nothing would ever be quite as relaxing as the weathered voice of the woman whose arms had held him when all others had pushed him away, and her steady ramblings about the impossible state her garden is in (even though he knows it looks immaculate because there's never been a time it hasn't) have almost lulled him to sleep when the blaring of an alarm on the other end startles him back to attention, back into a sitting position like it was somehow his responsibility to intervene.  “Grandma?”, he asks cautiously, as if even the slightest change in intonation, the faintest trace of tension in his voice could harm her. “Goodness, I got so caught up in my story, I forgot all about the food. Silly me!”, she replies with such pointed collectedness, Namwoo has to pause to listen for any holes in her composure and still discovers only a slight irregularity in her breathing pattern that he has a hard time interpreting one way or another. Had he not known any better, he might have chalked it up to the many things his grandmother has lived through that made her into the woman he knows today – that nothing can rattle her so easily because she's seen it all a hundred times before. But he does know better. He knows that the reason this doesn't faze her is because it's the third time this exact thing happened – the third time this month. (Two of those, she doesn't remember.)

July 2013 This year is busier than the last, and Knight's career has at no point been anywhere near slow, so Namwoo is beyond grateful he gets the evening off to visit home despite their impending comeback, just days away now. Anticipation burns in the tips of his fingers as he taps them against the stark white wall of his grandmother's house while he waits for her to open the door, which is taking her surprisingly long. Not that Namwoo ever really counted, but he does have a rough number of heartbeats he remembers passing every time before the door swings open with too much force for so small a woman to exude. Eventually, it does open – slowly, almost tentatively, like there's something to hide he could spot if the gap was too wide. “Namwoo? I didn't expect you! You should have told me you were coming over,” his grandmother greets him as her features light up just as slowly, just as tentatively, and that's all it takes for him to realize what she's hiding. For a moment, he entertains the thought that she might be playing around with him, that this is all part of a grander surprise and he is about to fall for it, but the light he sees in her eyes is subdued by a smudge of grey fog he's come to know all too well, so he smiles as if to make up for it – here's all the warmth and light I have; take it, you can have it. I want you to have it. I need you to. I need you. “Do you know what day it is?”, he asks and finds that a carefree attitude is so hard to fake, the effort is almost enough to make him forget where the pauses between his words are supposed to go, like language and lies were two separate things – one a pristine art, the other what's left of it when everything that made it beautiful goes up in flames. “Tuesday? Why are you asking?”, she replies, in equal parts confused and agitated, and Namwoo can't bring himself to say anything in return. A gentle shake of his head is his only response, tongue wetting a bottom lip that isn't dry because she knows it's a sign of nerves on his end when he bites down on it and he doesn't want to worry her any further, so this is the closest he can get – because it's wrong, all of it.  He did tell her he was coming. It's Thursday. And it's his seventeenth birthday.   (Gone are the days he could pretend the memories she let go of were of little importance, that there was a conscious filter to what she kept and what she dropped. There is nothing fair about this.)

September 2015 It's been a long time coming. For years, he's known that something's wrong – something beyond his grandmother being a little ditzy, a little clumsy; something beyond the old age she used to complain about but stopped as soon as she saw the fatigue mirrored in his eyes. Sometimes, he wants her to complain again – to forget that he's busy and tired, that he might not be alone, and tell him all about the difficulties she faces in her day to day life so that he could at least somewhat be a part of it still. But she doesn't, and he knows the harder he pushes her for it, the stronger the walls she puts up – because his grandmother is more of a warrior than he'll ever be and she's fought too many battles to lose one to him. There are things she won't concede even as the small, everyday disputes with her own body turn into an all-out war. Therefore, it doesn't surprise him when it's not his grandmother who calls him when she needs him but the hospital, because at least he is her emergency contact despite it all. They tell him on the phone to stay calm, that nothing serious happened – she simply got lost and someone was kind enough to take her to a hospital to make sure she hadn't gotten injured prior or somewhere along the way, but Namwoo can't control the frantic rhythm his heart beats into his ribcage like it's searching for its way to get lost as well, like it has a right to be with her even when the rest of his body is busy working late. He doesn't dare asking a manager to drive him, doesn't even trust his voice to speak more than an explanation he wrote in his head before so he only has to read it out now because he knows he's incapable of forming coherent thoughts when people look at him with pity they don't even have the decency to conceal. Instead, he takes a cab and pretends his hands aren't trembling so badly, he struggles to open the door for a few moments. This is what the life of an idol has prepared him for: to wear his smile like a curtain and pretend there's nothing hiding behind it. The doctor is kind and takes his time to explain to the both of them the diagnosis – Alzheimer's disease –, and what that means 'for the family'. It's painfully obvious that he's handled multiple cases before and is going off of that; that usually, he deals with concerned children who ask their parents to move back in when they develop the first signs, and not some idol grandchild who lives in a dorm with far too many people and can't promise he can be home more than once every two weeks. What he takes away from it is this: there's no cure, there's no hope, only a vague time frame and stages of progression that will haunt him until they finally arrive and rob him of the family he has left. Still, Namwoo smiles and pulls his grandmother into his chest because she is crying and he can't remember a time she ever did so in front of him, which further cements his belief that it is now up to him to be the strong one, to be the grown-up, and look after her as she has done for him so many years.

That night, with his back pressed to the headboard of a bed he hasn't slept in in months, Namwoo dials a number he hasn't called in years. His father's. “It's me, Namwoo,” he reminds him as a way of greeting, because he isn't sure he'd remember him by voice alone. It's unlikely. “Grandma is sick. It's Alzheimer's disease. She isn't going to get any better, so I just wanted to let you know – maybe you should come visit sometime.” His father hangs up on him wordlessly and Namwoo swallows back disappointment barely there because he expected nothing else. When the next morning comes, he hasn't slept a wink but he's browsed every page on the internet Naver suggested, and the knowledge he's acquired has formed an iron weight he now carries on his chest every step that he takes, but as soon as he walks into the kitchen where his grandmother sits and scribbles down post-it notes for things she doesn't want to allow herself to forget, he puts on his smile again like it's just another part of a choreography he's memorized and perfected long ago. Fear was replaced by an eerie calm that surrounds him when he has something to keep himself occupied with, so he soon sets out to talk to the neighbors he used to see often when he was a child and still lived here – the ones he knows he can trust. An elderly couple with no children of their own seems almost glad he's come to them with this request, and they promise they'll stop by his grandmother's house at least once a day to check up on her whenever Namwoo is too busy to make it – so, realistically, most days. His grandmother is overjoyed he isn't sending her to a nursing home just yet, as the doctor offered.

January 2018 Even through his blurry vision – his level of overexertion is at an all-time high –, Namwoo can make out the newly formed creases in his grandmother's clothes where they used to fit her but don't anymore. Gradually, much too quickly, she's been losing weight and he's come to investigate why. Again, as always, his smile is in place and unwavering, because that's what he's vowed to be for her and he's never been one to break a promise, even if no one but him was witness to it.  “Who are you?”, she asks him wearily, not loosening the chain that keeps her door locked to most visitors nowadays, and Namwoo takes a deep breath as if those words didn't just rip something in him apart. Every memory of theirs she forgets tears a hole in the pictures he keeps like polaroids stored in his brain, and they bleed happiness until he forgets what it felt like. Was it like this, too? An illusion of strength he bears himself with that he means no more than lyrics a stranger thrusts into his hands to deliver to people who don't want to listen, only watch – with too much conviction and too little heart? “Namwoo, your grandson,” he replies, his tone light and easy. Nonchalant, almost, for he's certain she won't remember all the ways to see past appearances he puts up.  “Right! Namwoo, my boy. You changed your hair again, didn't you? That must be what confused me.”  “That must be it,” he humors her, though he hasn't changed it in months.

It's not hard to find the cause of her weight loss – a single peek into the fridge tells him she doesn't eat the food her neighbors bring over, or what he buys for her when he goes grocery shopping because she no longer can without getting lost or forgetting why she left the house in the first place. All containers are labeled – dates, every day of the week a different color –, and only random ones were opened, most not touched at all. There's only one conclusion this leads him to: she no longer remembers to eat. Has it already progressed this far? When he steps into the living room to confront her with his findings – gently, carefully, a mere inquiry instead of a possible accusation, though she doesn't take well to either anymore –, he sees her grow increasingly frustrated with the TV station that just won't change despite her animated button-pressing on the device in her hand.  “Grandma, you're holding the telephone,” he says and is surprised at the softness of his voice and how clearly fear shines through yet again. Her eyes dart from him to the phone in her hand and back to him before she dissolves into sobs and tears that don't stop until his shirt is soaked with them – and he still doesn't let go then.

That's when he makes the decision that something needs to change. It's simply no longer safe to let her spend most of her time on her own – not when she's no longer capable of taking care of even her most basic of needs reliably –, and yet he knows she'd prefer death by starvation to a nursing home, anyway. Hence he searches his recollections of all the pages he's browsed and remembers a particular service that he'd already taken into consideration back then: personal caregiver. Of course they're costly and it's not guaranteed his grandmother will take well to a stranger walking around her house like they belong there, but for someone who's all out of options, it's the best thing he can offer. (Does it make him a horrible person that he doesn't even consider trying to get out of his contract to care for her himself? It does, in his opinion, and he reminds himself of it every time he tries to fall asleep.)

Once more, he attempts to call his father to inform him of recent developments because Namwoo thinks he has a right to know – it's his mother, after all. Should they not be able to relate to one another at least over this – over the woman who raised them both slowly slipping away from them like a light flickering out, and with every flutter, they can only wonder if it might be her last? But he's barely a few seconds into his explanation when his father interrupts him with an angry huff. “What, you want money now? You earn plenty of it yourself.” “That's not what this is about at all,” he tries to reason, but at this point, he's only talking to the dial tone. Again.

April 2019 Whenever Knight get a break, the first thing Namwoo does is visit home. When every day could be his grandmother's last, he wants to spend as many as he can at her side and etch them into his memory as if filling his head with images of her could make up for the fact that her own is emptying out everything.  A gasp falls from his lips at the silhouette he spots on the porch – one he doubts he'll ever forget, even though he hasn't seen it in years. It's his father, in the flesh. When he turns around and their eyes meet, Namwoo expects him to spit venom again; he expects anger or not being acknowledged at all, because that had always been his fate (and infinitely worse), but what he sees instead is the same fear he's come to know so well as a permanent resident in his heart, and he realizes then he won't see his father come back again. The woman who opens the door wears a smile much like his – pasted on as a perfect façade to make sure no one spots what is beneath –, but she's pleasant enough and she manages to deal with his grandmother's mood swings while he isn't around, so Namwoo is eternally grateful for her efforts. It makes it easier that neither of them is willing to show emotion when she tells him that his grandmother has to wear diapers now; that most days, it takes her forever to form a sentence because language no longer comes together naturally. He's beyond glad she doesn't expect a reaction from him, because he doesn't know what to say or do. Acceptance feels a lot like burning oneself on a hot stovetop – it's numb in the moment, but ripples of pain continue to spread for a long time after, and Namwoo continues to smile through all of it.